Lyrics:
impressed by some, others don't hold water
Some of y'all new rappers are my sons and daughters
That's why Mommy's Home and I got my belt
You gon' feel this
Fortnite battles every night
Kids are dancing, what a sight
Building towers way up high
Just to get sniped by a random guy
Minecraft worlds, block by
You ain't living how I live sucka
That's why I flex on niggas
They never did love us
I'm putting checks on niggas
Even my kid's mother
And you ain't
the block up like Rob Lowe
Bodega liquor store, I'm dead in the window
PPP symbol got FBI on lookout
Strip the dirty clothes, hit a 118 cookout
I woof
the hell...what the hell...
[Chorus 1: Lord Tariq]
People know me on these streets player, I ain't new
Lookin at me all funny, while I'm countin my money
Suprise,
I pledge allegiance to my kingdom pull the pen on you
And let the games begin
And yes my friend
You just barely getting in
The game
Since way back
cribs with kids and blow wigs back
Police is grimy, lookin' like "try me"
Ready to lock me up, ridin' by me
I just put my game face on
Five of us
down the block, those are elementary students you’re arguing with! PUT THE FUCKIN’ GAME IN! Don’t you have any desire at all, to at least fuck some pussy
him of GZA back then I was a cold
Little nigga painting pictures
Avalon did that, six pack
Raised by them killers that’ll never
Bring them kids back
payin them dues, nuttin to lose
Huh, street kids, broken and bruised, eyein yo' jewels
Huh, bad news, barin they souls through rhymin blues
_hardcore_!
seem so degrading,
Most rappers got new albums that white kids are anticipating,
If you don't like it on the radio
or the television then switch
a middle finger
Hip hop is sweeping the nation
But the contents seem so degrading
Most rappers got new albums
That white kids are anticipating
If you don't
kid
Dropped a dope album about last week I been takin a break
This shit weak
The streets ain't no play I almost got hit
We ain't playing no game men we
well
We are some partying mothafuckas"
Tired of these rappers
Tired of these jackers
I'm tired of these dances
By these fucking backpackers
And I'm sick
Yo I Seen it all done in all
Most of y'all will pop for a minute
Spit a sentence
Then the game would get rid of yall
Sick of y'all
Witness
I'm accepted
By mainstream America and good in the piece
Now niggas wanna talk all greasy (why)
Like they ain't used to open up for
Me in New York on tv
with those niggas
Because those niggas’ not my niggas!
Yo, haha
Twinnies’ got my block popping (a huh)
Album's got my stock rising
Before police state,
hand, I'm stashin' 'em
Before I'm bagged wit 'em, plus my son got the Magnum
Wyldin' out in these young gun days, young love days
New to the game, but was
a new sherriff in town
And it ain't Reggie Hammond 2Pac:
Now shit's constantly hot, on my block
It never fails to be gunshots
Can't explain a mother's
gotta be the same cats
I can tell by they strange acts
When they mumble to each other
Like Milan they run for cover
New 'cause this bitch that I
to insult my integrity
Put down the whistle, I'm done with you referees
Y'all don't know nothing, you think you ejected me
'Til I show up in the game
nigga give me the word, I'ma kill that lame
You know Major League niggas play the kidnap game
Have the kid missin' for days, listen and pray
And I'ma
rag in my pocket match the blood in the curb
Hear the shots in the hood but can they feel it in the 'burbs?
Turn on the news, get seduced by the words
the door wide
Stolen Bonneville in New York High
Reversin' the plot
Last come, first one to rot, first in the glot
If I miss, circlin' the block
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