Lyrics:
the cellar
Hunted by man because I'm Satan's son
Otherwise known as the
Motherfuckin' crazed one
Boy, just be yourself
If people don't like you for being
track that I brung ya
Laced with bass and funky lyrics that I sung ya
1-2-3 or is it 3-2-1
Call me E or just son of a gun
Cause every time I play with
other New York rappers
Jay-Z of Hawaiian Soapy fame, Big Little whatever
And several other corny sounding motherf***ers
are understandably shaken up by
I'm just tryna' flaunt around.
Yeah, my lyrics always haunt, but I never let my guard,
Down to nigga who always thought "yeah, my guard is down".
le doute m'est sombre gros
J'aime pas la teuf j'me
Rend compte que j'parle
De la même meuf dans tout mes sons
Ouais j'parle beaucoup, parlons d'agir
presence
Can't go un'ground with them lyrics that pound
I'll slap fools, relax when tools in my presence
'Cause that ain't shit because your murder is
miles beyond every single rap that you make
So y'all impressed by me? No y'all been blessed by me
And y'all can get up at my level when you've stressed
the nerve to let your man riff
And start flakin' like dandruff
C'mon son my steelo's tight
Cause by far I'm the best producer on the mic
Born to write,
cash for eighty seven
Some did it got paid, some jams were never played
But I am just a poet who watched the whole parade
Go by, and why, cause they
Connection, Pennsy a part of me, South Philly through my arteries
Thought the dark one, fearsome, slump son
My vocal just a knuckle that sucker punched
the nerve to let your man riff
And start flakin' like dandruff
C'mon son my steelo's tight
Cause by far I'm the best producer on the mic
Born to write,
Well I once could have married the king's third son
And a fine young man was he
But now I'm married to a house carpenter
And a nice young man is
Nasty Nas is a rebel to America
Police murderer, I'm causing hysteria
My troops roll up with a strange force
I was trapped in a cage and let out by
by the streets
But that don't mean that I don't take this shit serious
I'm still aimin' to reach the apex of the pyramids
The truth is... I really love
cellule, les lyrics se sort
You ride or die for the money
J'ai pris le mic' j'avais la dalle, j'étais fonce-dé au rhum
La justice m'a dit vient voir,
to start training
I put the "rap" in Rapunzel's hairy situation
Get to work like I'm Herc, see the gains
Son? Organization 13 tryna to break us
Certain that
somethin' to say, make space
Who said this town's yours
I can't relate, still swayed
Now you all my sons
That play-by-play by me goes crazy
Go 'head, count
just give it up
You tried to beat me in a game that I made up
And by the time you learnt the rules and tried to change your fate
Its too little too late
[Theme Song to "Sanford & Son"]
Ha, oh shit, you always goin' to get cha' dick sucked
Ah suck that thang, ha ha
Man that's a fuckin' rerun, turn
If you having girl problems I
Feel bad for you son
I got 99 problems but a bitch ain't one
I've got the Rap Patrol on the gat patrol
Foes that wanna
yo, go by the Jane Doe
Drenched in Polo, chill downtown in Soho
You don't know, this is just half my potential
Check my credentials, come harder than
I suggest you
Don't ever sleep son, peep one or two of these lines here
Arranged by a great brain, delivering rhymes clear
And concise with a nice
a son by this bitch he dated
Shorty waited for two dead case kid
He'd get them niggas kids if he couldn't get them
Then one day out of the blue, BAM!
the shit knee deep
In a race against time, beat your motherfuckin beat
Hold your satellite Son, I'm from where you from
Same shit different slum, where
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