Lyrics:
row in a Tom Ford poncho, yeah (Yeah)
My bitch sit Indian style, yeah
Smokin' on Runtz by the pound (smokin' on Runtz)
Young niggas crazy put switch
Say hello to the man who saved hip hop
They say the game fucked up and the records ain't sellin'
It was bad in 06' gettin' worse in 07'
Market over
for Okeh Record Company. I started
recording for them in 1920 and I stayed with … I won a contest with
them … I had been … I had been on this contest
to stunt - I don't need to front
There black history e'ry day - I don't need a month
The survey says - by the streets according
Kanye's just important
Aw man!
Put that ol' dumb horn down
Hey, Jazzy
Jazzy
Show this boy what some real music 'posed to sound like
He-he-ha!
1-2-3-4
Now that's a record
Starting to get blisters from somebody else shoes
Somebody best move the record needle for it starts to skip
See society’s the problem yet still I am a part
bring back the raw hip-hoppin'
Just like the records and tapes you be coppin'
Cop some breakdancin', boogie poppin', and lockin'
Tic tockin',
bring back the raw hip-hoppin'
Just like the records and tapes you be coppin'
Cop some breakdancin', boogie poppin', and lockin'
Tic tockin',
only
Ten funky, funky, funky, funky
Funky hit records
No more than four minutes and some seconds
The competition checks and checks
And keeps checking
D-McN ESCOBcR
DcNCE4ME (Cubandiva Mix)
Written by: David Escobar cyala, John Bryan Roca
Featuring: Cubandiva Label: Music Galaxy Entertainment
D-McN ESCOBcR DcNCE4ME (Spanglish) Fancy Don mix featuring CubanDiva
Written by: David Escobar cyala, John Bryan Roca
Label: Music Galaxy
start leaving
Denouement
3/4 the way round the clock
Now all that we have
cre the records from the camera
Oh no
It hurts too long, this growing song
Lit up like the 4th I'm a happy drunk come to papa big momma 'cause your
Daddy's drunk I want to pump pump it up like the Goodyear blimp
Make you
a record we can all dance to
And at the same time prove our point to you
Forget the clean-cutted (what?)
Kid 'n play don't play, this time we're comin rough
to oak tree
I hold the record for turning the most nose
Bleeds to front row seats
Most nose bleeds to front row seats (sigh)
Tryin’ to not take this
Whole
need to order a protection
Killing feelings on these records
So my charges is molesting
And assault with deadly weapons got
These rappers feeling
(Live moti-) (live motivator) (4x)
[ VERSE 1 ]
I have the mind of a sick psychiatric
Protegees perish with my tactics
Terminate, excel, I bust
Owww!
Get on down [x3]
[Erick Sermon]
Well, it's the E wit the juice, I'm down to get loose
Strapped in black wit the nine by the boots
across four or five lanes dodging cars, almost got hit by an eighteen wheeler truck
I’m just thinking back on memories with my homies dead or alive you
years, four hundred songs, but only just one dream
At least two thousand followers, at least ten thousand streams
We were churning out that content,
the same
Your love is like poison
I want another dosage
This fever's rising to the sky
Heavy sigh, I feel paralysed
Shot down by that look in your eyes
Your
I can grill a mean steak while I drink my whiskey neat
I keep a glock nine tucked and a case pocket knife with me
I got a four by four with some
the streets gave me bad dreams
It's been hell living thuggish tryna keep my record clean ain't nun nice about this shit nigga the streets mean
I done wiped
seeds, salutation from the missile plant
Quick to the hollow point, it ain't no olive branch
My low cal, four oh cal in the cardigan
Tempted by Satan,
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