Song picture
777
Comment Share
License   $0.00
This is NOT a game. This joint is evangelist motivation for the street dwellaz.
boston mike beantown pham bean kid beantowne bike moston boston mike boston pham mike boston mike boston from boston mikey bee
Commercial uses of this track are NOT allowed.
Adaptations of this track are NOT allowed to be shared.
You must attribute the work in the manner specified by the artist.
Artist picture
IG@MikeBoston617 Twitter@MikeBoston617 YouTube@MikeBoston617 http://www.facebook.com/MikeBoston617 http://www.MikeBoston.co
This is what I live for. This is what I am dying for the love of. Yahweh.
Song Info
Genre
Hip-Hop Bass Rap
Charts
Peak #1,367
Peak in subgenre #43
Author
Mike Boston
Rights
2005 Mike Boston Records
Uploaded
August 19, 2005
Track Files
MP3
MP3 9.1 MB 128 kbps 0:00
Story behind the song
My purpose.
Lyrics
777 Written by Mike Boston Produced by Diego for A.S.A.P. [VERSE 1] Drama struck, Dwellin’ in the ‘chasm of ruck’ Lavendered-up, Avirek dud, emphatical lust! Facin’ the elements, Racin’ the clock, pace benevolent. Whirl-wind spin, And when it hit, straight malevolent. To die dreamin’... While many rather go schemin’ Or have a demon on they knees, Serpent slurpin’ they semen. Holdin’ criterion for eons. Ni-Ni-Nigeri-ons & weed-bongs. A diamond in the rough, They tried to bluff my brother Keyon! [CHORUS](2x) Seven days in the shade Seven minutes in Heaven Seven seconds to the cotton pickin’ day. It’s a lot we gotta save! Many men, many women & Many more children on the way. Kid I’m all about the pay... Not about to be a slave for the devil though BATTA-BATTA BANGG!!! Onomatopoeia slang. And it might’ve been a thing back then Now it’s all about the game. [VERSE 2] The sky’s bleedin’ Thunder & lightenin’, heathens & Vikings On a personal plight, To figure out where my light bends. I change lanes, Rangin’ they game then slang flames. My mainframe gets tame When I mangle they brains. TANGLED IN CHAINS-CHAINS-CHAINS Troopin’ the land My mental stand in a soldier state. Plannin’ random acts of escape. And all the hook on the look for the crook With the Anarchist’s Cookbook, Flatlined like chessboard rooks. E – C – T – O Everybody Come To Observe The repertoires of God Paragraphted in words. ‘Cuz it’s a ‘Live and Let Die’ frame of mind In the eyes of the beast And this urban subculture DON’T SLEEP! [CHORUS](3x) [VERSE 3] From Cokes & turf scullies, Word to Mully, I’m designed to redefine THE PLANET NOW With a smidgen of a rhyme. Concubines droppin’ lines With blue & whites and losin’ sight For brew and flave. Truant nights redesign, A shorty’s grave. In desperate motion cause commotion For the potion straight from Logan Left a notion ‘bout dem hoes... Them that fuss to bust my lotion. In the amidst of clenched fists & loaded clips A MI TENE FOMEE! ‘Qui vida’ is owed to me to feed the beast? VIDA DI POBRE! [CHORUS](2x)
On Playlists
Comments
Please sign up or log in to post a comment.