Lyrics:
Hustle O (Meds)
By Ojeda Jarrett (Ojeda DOC AKA O da D.O.C)
Verse 1:
Excuse me i grew up poor
So a lot of these luxuries
I can't ignore
Seh
Big Daddy
My chick a baddy, give me good good
Graining on the wood, woodpecker made in hood
Fair maiden reign in Brooklyn by the way of the slave trade
everyday for my dream
To get the best out of me, Ah
English wasn't my native language so I had to read
Comics like MARVEL, DC
While I was listening to 2
d'une grande culture mais
Rien à faire avec
Elevé à la tchèque révélé par
Le tiek's réveillé par les
Cris des voisins qui se battent
Nus contre les dettes
thankful for such
'Cause that's the government tool for mind control
And when they control mind, follows body and soul
Yo, democracy sounds great by theory
I'm a hood nigga
Where the streets ain't nothing good to ya
Tryna make a way
Live another day
Fucked up by a stray
Pray for better
I'm a hood nigga
Yes the flight is two hours behind schedule. But our flights were different.
His left an hour after mine. Brother Patrick, the youngest of seven
just a myth, a legend, Loch Ness monster
Smith and Wesson
I need converse, Not no 7's; Irradiate heat
Incandescent (Incandescent)
I got connections
as easy as easy can be but I'll kill that shit easy like 1 2 3
send him to heaven with the 2 23's checkin the time 7 till 3
Yes we on that fuck shit, no
tryna chat
That's the generations chargin' a battery in my back
See, I'm fueled by the culture, driven by my ancestors
Body just a vessel, brain tapped
for the culture
Bosses are established
Never are they soldiers
Live life for you
Hold down ya fam
And do what you supposed to
Tap into the soulful
People work in our homes working like slaves
So how we living the life we live in danger
Cause I was born in the life not in a manger
Like how we live in
we're really tryna live sweet (So sweet)
I'm buying beats but I went to Amsterdam for weed and not to clap cheeks
I've got a way with words you can't
body rock
Well so far you've heard my voice but I brought two friends along,
And the next on the mic is my man Hank,
C'mon, Hank, sing that song!
she train me how to set my soul free
Bounty Hunters capture me, in carbonate they froze me
I am the Dark Oder my two sons are Thor and Ockie
In
You in danger at 16 with the beam
One in the chamber aimed at that 0 7
Got the chopper close by
Head bussa from the Bronx
Rep my city every night
how to sew seein niggas stitches
And the pain, don't even ask who 'bout the pain
They killed main, I won't maintain
By the bus stop, two blocks from
Young kid'll live by goldie advice's
Pimp hoe's that come across so righteous
F*** though, promote on the Rolley ices
Yo, that's why my jewelery
God and get rich
Saw the D's fly by, in a New Yorker, yup, tints and shit
They made a right on me, them last two dicks
Know I seen 'em, Max loaded,
in two or more places at once
Everywhere and nowhere and sleeping and out to lunch
I find people should be more like atoms
Circling some common thing
and destruction for centuries to come
The gods, offended by whom have blackened them, have forget us
As two terrible dragons battle arrays clash
One white as his
Love, why do you say you are easy?
Please live me alone
1/ my heart has always been touched
2/my love has imprisoned my heart
3/she closed the doors
A-1-2, A-1-2
But you don´t stop
Then let the short shot
Production: DJ Large
And Promoe on the mic(on the mic, on the mic)
For all my people(all my
sheep by the hour sheaves kneel
While I sleep my fate sealed watch me
I minute more than most can't stop me
Every second gets better
Think I'm finished
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