Lyrics:
the ground
No, I don't feel the ground
But I'm feelin' right, I'll tell you what it's all about
'Cause you're makin' me feel this way
And it's kinda like
a record of some type"
I said, "man, the hype behind run-d.m.c. and cool j
What the fuck makes you think they're gonna give us a play?"
We did a few shows
make the most of what we have together
So turn the radio on and hold my hand all night long
And if you think you can’t dance just lose yourself
put out cla**ics
We turn b****es out, take turns in that b**** mouth
Carve n****z up, show n****z what it's all about
It's Us, the best of Queens,
they know you but don't know shit about me
Beat it up
I Popped me a bean now I'm beamining up
Blunt get measured by the meters
Know these niggas
Thought they wanted gold, thought they wanted shine
Thought they wanted radio, bitch make up your mind
(Yeah ho)
All this attention, I don't even know
usually started things off by asking about the avant-garde.
Â?? So, what's so good about new? they'd ask.
â?? Well, new isâ?¦ interesting.
â?? And what
know what about you?
She said "I don't care, if you're hungry, let's eat"
I said that's what we're gonna do!
But first you gotta tell me
What it is
sellin' crack be
Say what up to my neighbourhood dealers
Niggas rollin' cee-lo, local car stealers
Narcs cruisin' by
They wanna lock us on the way
No eye
man she ain't have half as much nerve as that record producer
The one that dissed us man
What up
When I first started rapping I had one idea
Nickelback niggaz thinkin' they can fuck with big weight
Hell no, give it up, it's enough
We about to live it up, with ten of us
We ride and you live with
Thought they wanted gold, thought they wanted shine
Thought they wanted radio, bitch make up your mind
(Yeah ho)
All this attention, I don't even know
bangs stay low in her No Limit Gear I call her Tisha and Tamara's her twin and there's Brandy matter fact she's one of her
Friends kinda shy come about
end
Motherfuckin' black radio is being disowned
Not by the other race, but its own
A lot of bullshit records make hits
Because of who you know,
the Okay-players and the Spitkickers
Rawkus got a deal with MCA, thats the grey area
But let us come from music cemetery of America
They try to fool you by
to take us back (Yep)
So you got your and I got mine, so why do you whine about my grind ?
Sitting around blaming Mix-a-Lot for your situation
Boy get
a kiss
So yo, so I blend in the mix
Now a day don't go by I ain't been in a chick
Eight and a half on the dope, ask Dominican Rich
Winning and rich
gonna let us in, or else we rush the door
I got too many reasons, save your 'whys' and 'what fors'
This is twice inna lifetime so I'm lettin' you know
called the cops, now I'm gettin' nervous
The cops see a beeper and the suckers might serve us
Hit a side street and what did we find?
Some young punk,
Family. Broadcasting over the airwaves from Nashville, Tennessee. Reach over and turn up your radio's and we'll bring our music to ya and pretty soon you'll
Thank my math teacher Count Dracula
For just teachin' a brother to you know
Count his marbles you know
What about you?
Verse 1 (Mack)
swallowed his razor (wsssht)
Say no more, my back be parked against the wall
Trooper square holding, 'Face don't give a fuck about the law
Take off
from Da Brick City
This is DJ Say What
An' we're gonna blast y'all right now
With the new cut by Redman, ?I Don't Kare?
On W0 Fuck All y'all Radio
Thank my math teacher Count Dracula
For just teachin' a brother to you know
Count his marbles you know
What about you?
Verse 1 (Mack)
.jpg/220px-Brandy_Norwood_–_Brandy_(album).jpg "Brandy")
.jpg/273px-Brandy_Clark_-_Highline_Ballroom_(2).jpg "Brandy Clark")
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