Lyrics:
lights with a hand full of news
So fuck what you heard, not a damn thing to lose
Little buddy look
I don't do it for fame and the fortune
Recognize I could
it's okay I do the same damn things, yeah
I Knew that I was wrong I shouldn't have chose you
We been back and forth for too long this shit old news
You
Players (Wearin' suede in the rain)
Down South Players (Do the craziest things)
Down South Players (Go by alias names)
Down South Players (Gettin' payed in
to splurge on effects and reverb
Once that cue system shit hit them ears your brain's gonna curve
Drop the mister two inch, half inch for any edits
Radio
could do for that school
Blueface had got locked up for attempted murder (damn)
Him and Chrisean the new Ike and Tina Turner (hahahaha)
Ray J was
invented by this crew
Of them powerful men, who often like new
Stuff to be tested, only if I knew…
What ima being brought to, you would not have to tell me
sir)
In the sand, I'll get you washed up in the sand
How many damns do I give
Zero divide by six
I dont give a damn, if she don't got bands
She don't
sir)
In the sand
I'll get you washed up in the sand
How many damns do I give
Zero divide by six
I don't give a damn, if she don't got bands
She don't got
$hort"
But I?m a better mc than you
And ain?t a damn thing you can do, but bitch
On the tv screen, in the magazines
When they interview you, you just
I had shown a great acumen for playing music by ear. My father bought me a small keyboard that was maybe like one or two, maybe three octaves. And I
you any damn thing that you want
You want flowers, I'll buy your ass a rose
But later on you're coming out them panyhose
You want gold? Girl what's
With like new artist
Wanting hand outs
Hitting people up
Expecting things for free
And we never
There artist you never
Even heard of
Yea yea
What do you
Droppin' jams that slammed on every radio program
And bam, got damn, look where I am
The first album, long live the kane, it sold
About umm aww fukkit it
enough to live good forever
So I learned to write the rhymes and get my metaphors together
Then I joined a rap crew, with the homies on my street
The mic was passed and that's when I found out
(People from everywhere watchin the show)
(You're intrigued by the way I do my thing)
(People from
without trusting
Yea too much hate when ya crew hot, too much love get you 2Pac'd
Too much bread over here get you stalked by the feds
The IRS and a few
gon' rule like me
Keep it true like me, Cole you might be
Like the new Ice Cube, meets the new Ice-T
Meets 2 Live Crew, meets the new Spike Lee
Meets
My youth scare dem
U.W.U fear non
And y'all tearing
When boos following
Jeering cause news
Is the crews smooth
And move with the
Blessed truth
So what
on saying "Fuck Too $hort"
But I'm a better MC than you
And ain't a damn thing you can do, but bitch
On the TV screen, in the magazines
When they
to do that
Nothing that I'm new at, I guess you probably knew that
I wonder where my crew's at, I wonder where's the booze at
Gotta move it on, so I'm
this beat
Ever since I was a lil' kid I started rhyming and spit
I heard these new age fucken rappers, they'll be copying shit
All of them sound the damn
so fuckin' long go
Buy him a new chain
See these niggas know I do this shit
Stay out my lane and what's crazy
Nigga this comin' from my brain
See you I
love this country
We love this country
I'm not voting for any new party
I'm not for new government
Of course they're good things
So many good things
two shit's about your two cents
My crew ruthless, keeping ‘em tuned in
To that new shit, Green Tape
Banging out your speakers, exclusive
You too cool
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