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An old school hip-hop head with a futuristic flow & unique style.
Song Info
Genre
Charts
Peak #1,297
Peak in subgenre #522
Author
Chuckie
Uploaded
April 16, 2005
Track Files
MP3
MP3 2.4 MB • 128 kbps • 0:00
Lyrics
I wet a track often for the pioneers that's dead.
& keep them shits lounging around like 7-11 heads
Get bread, that’s the motto top dollar
pop bottles with top models & talk lotto…
& while u out mad dough, to cook cake for ur babies
My style be in a Meth-Lab, glazing up pastries..
It’s all cream, crispy mad game..
I turn prophets (profits) like Muhammad’s in the left hand lane..
Ima break a bank, trick get back
Solid gold dead president clip snap
Every line, crack, like the San Andréas
In fact, it’s Grand Canyon level.. spray that
Arizona Cali-heat… breezed out beautifully
Deaths on the concrete, screaming out eulogies
glazed with a little bit of P-Town rain..
we Left Coast all in the same…break em off man…
u late with the skill you aint, talkin real
u fake, far from real take a break from the pills &
Come take, mine come take, mine…
Skate thru my tilt u can’t make what a built..
I’m blatant with the hate I take it str8 to ur grill
Come take, mine come take, mine…
Emcee, Cereal killer be in the crime lab
Captain Crunch breaking 8 balls down to dime bags
feet off my carpet.. where the weed at? Spark it
Stop arguing with me y’all just hearken..
& believe in the Cire the messiah the livest wire who
deliver the type of fire to make emcees.. wanna retire
I admire, those who wanna come, take crown
Results always the same tho, 2 way radio sounds..
Transmitting data, investigators all around…
Pounding the ground for answers round town..
Privately they be like tho whoa?! homie hold me down..
Is that an adams apple in his thoat? Nope, that’s a 40 pound.
Plus he got a foot in his ass.. shit is so gutter…
Meat cutter style be the profile write it up….
…case closed papes froze in a snowman pocket
knock off my hustle? nah struggle locked it
hands up, sike, get down for this stick-up
this a 52 thousand metaphor card pick-up…
yea we can play them games brah I snuff u for ya dice…
Miami vice, cartel tight corrupt smuggling type
Phidels hell, my heat is like twice…
the hotness, of that underground deep sea, lock ness
shit u spit aint conscious, that’s little boy jewels…
easy way out styles be trying to sound cool.. save it
Hook/Outro