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Hip hop. . .real lyrics and diverse beats.
I am an emcee. One World One Love is how I do it. Just real lyrics over dope beats. . it's that simpe.
Song Info
Genre
Charts
Peak #822
Peak in subgenre #38
Author
Sipho
Uploaded
November 23, 2004
Track Files
MP3
MP3 2.9 MB • 128 kbps • 0:00
Story behind the song
Just old memories of how me and my boys used to roll. . .I wrote this one while in Africa last year. . .
Lyrics
Beef written by Sipho for Naturally Dope Productions
Verse one:
Listen yall while I drop these audible pockets
inoculate these words open up your mind like a lock smith
Tock tick the clock spins backwards as I remember
summer time 91 was hot like pots that simmer
Me and my boys my crew you know how we do it
get drunk smoke blunts but only if the shoe fits
Passin bottles of liquor while doin 80 on the freeway
the whole IMT crew was representin believe me
Kick back in the back and Kemo in the passenger
me behind the wheel to drive drunk was natural
8 ball the last of four horsemen of course when
we hit the the door of the club shit begins
8 ball to the head Kick on the drinks me I make a round
see our boys give love and pounds
IMT is about to get down and dirty
and mack bitches on the floor show them ho's no mercy
1, 2, 3, 4 all haters recognize all of you I ignore
Verse two:
The typical individual took notice
IMT at the club meant fuckin and you know this
But something about this night it was different
the air was thick and filled with tension anger and bickerin
Then all of the sudden like combustion spontaneous
thugs surround my crew like rings around Uranus
My team was flanked and had no room to maneuver
it was now do or die as I wished for eclipse like lunar
Out numbered three to one they sprung upon us like locust
my focus was to bash every nigga that approached us
And harm our physical no drill cuz shits is real
another fight with dem boyz means more blood to spill
1, 2, 3, 4 why the fuck are these niggas lookin at me hard for
They was hungry like cannibals for ass kickins we'd given
pay backs a mutha fucka now we caught out of position
Visions of glock clickin visions of riddled bodies with bullets
I seen the hate in they eye if given a trigger they'd pull it
My heart speeds up like the clickity clack of a train
on course to Holocaust my demeanor is now going insane
Meaner things I'd done as I stand back to back
with my boys who got my back 8 ball attacks
Avoid lumps and bruises avoid head contusions
I grabbed a chair and flung one upon those fuckin losers
Kick takes a hook to the mandible strikes back to the temple
Kemo breaks a bottle on an adams apple
Then club security do they things bum rush the scene
IMT regroups four men was now thirteen
Our adversaries waiting outside to crush us
luckily one of we had two gats in clutches
1, 2, 3, 4 it’s now do or die for me and my dogs
We slipped out the back club owner had our backs
plan was to split and rendezvous back at my pad
But you know plans never ever go according to
shit change when gun barrel pointed right at you
If they blast we blast its an eye for an eye
then a cry for a cry and I can only ask why
Now I must take a moment to mention their henchmen
and our lone gunman got touched divine intervention
We all heard the click from trigger finger flex
Jammed like preservatives in a jar of glass
1, 2, 3, 4 is being real and raw really worth dying for
If they blast we blast it’s an eye for an eye
then a cry for a cry and I can only ask why
. . . And I don’t even like beef
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