Lyrics:
eighteen
Yo, uhh, yo
Raised by QD3, we seen the years of menace
They can't evict a landlord
I proceed over the tenant
I mostly co-sign, get my pen out in
it rain but I ain't
Talkin bout money from the sky
I'm talkin about everybody die
I'm the Mo City Don and
The King Of The Ghetto
Z-Ro is a one man team
mention my name, everybody
Getting the drum, for fun, look
I don't let a fuck nigga by me
Cuz they just wanna be under a King
Like Kyrie
Niggas took
year na my year
Tan ba fa, a'ma fajaa
Ti mi o'ba ri key industry
Moma ja pelu Kala
Oun gba lori mi
Tori e ni mose un rin pelu daga
Ojo ti pe ni industry
Strange Music! I know ya'll see us!
Ya'll saw that Forbes list 2 years in a row, nigga, don't play!
And we still doing it!
Harder than most
This year it come in by the boatload
If I ever end up against the world
Then fuck it I'm killing shit solo
I mean what I stated
YRB gon be known in 50
child support fought for a year, had him for a year and half if not more, had him fifty percent of the time if not more, only to lose him when he started
came before me? Melle Mel, Ice T
King T, KRS and the homie Chuck D
P.E, DMC, nigga know your history
If Cube ain't top 3, then you's a bitch to me
sight to see
And he took them one by one and he drove them all away
In the mating of the day he was the king
Big blue had fifty wives and he sired
lean when i hit him with this draco
Extend the carbon with a 50 round make him do the fabo
I did this all by myself i didnt even need a label
I told my
go from here
Where do we go from here
(Take it all you need me)
Nobody gave me nothing
I made fifty of a pack
When I made a hundred
I ran
salute with your gun
Terror Squad leader, come down
When I was young I blazed the corner with a vengeance
Crack king descendant, 14 years old facin'
know what the fuck you just said
I just wanted you to believe in me!!!!
Now you gotta watch me eat with another
Been 7 years
This shit get deep, with
sippin' Rainer and Belvedere
King of West Coast Land of the pioneer
I got a good feeling this is my year
I got a good feeling I'mma have a career
One day
you round all the time
I'm talking shit
I need just a lil bit
All by lonely I'm on the grind
PIMP
Reppin the E
Let's take a selfie baby say cheese
throw up your hands and drop your mic
'Cause I'll go third, and he'll go fourth
By the fifth you're dissed cause you lost
Six is your beat down,
years in federal prison
I always live by the code of honour
That's why my best days are ahead of me
I am richer than I've ever been
I would like
featuring Tragedy King Tee Grand Puba Def Jef Chubb Rock
(Chorus)
Keep control...
(Tradegy the Intelligent Hoodlum)
When
Uh. We in here counting dead president heads
Up in the years, it's been up in the mills of dead president heads and counting
They put pictures
vigils
Burning us cuz we some lit individuals
Another cry, somebody die
It’s like some missiles
Shot through our heart by some officer’s wit deadly pistols
it the beat? Is it the rap?
Is it a finger snap or the same 808 clap?
And how do we adapt and get TRL votes
When thirteen-year-olds control
Note: This song is inspired by real Doc quotes. Every single fucking line was spoken, I shit you not. Viewer discretion is advised.
Jerry: “King
(Hard)
Eighty-nine my father laid to rest cemetery
Ten years later I need money commissary
(Bad)
Feel the rain and pain of a young black man
Dead or prison
School 'cause Rap on a whole
Isn't even twenty years old
Fifty years down the line, you can start this
'cause we'll be the Old School artists
And even
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