Search results for 'hop little rabbit by oscar brand' Page #15

conceit
I was spittin' rhymes way before you was conceived
I was around for the fuckin' big bang
Ain't no fancy brands, I don't got big chains
All by

Back pain cause a nigga been carrying the team I had to show them that I'm colder
Back pain cause a nigga been carrying weight I had that shit right by

was just dreamin'

Cruising down the street yelling "look ma
No hands" me and the neighborhood kids
Wearing off brand t-shirts and tennis shoes
Playing

those necks little bitch
Til I leave em all dead
With a scene Slit6
Aye
Back when my homies were just laughin' on the track
I cut em off for a minute

around but now he’s singing without it
And those of you that been spouting that Hip-Hop has advanced
Into trap, mumble rap and we just stuck in the past

cool
Oh, yo, I really liked "End To End Burner"
That little diss me thing on the internet was pretty funny
Yeah it's live sucker
Uh, yeah, and I was

to dodge my raps
And super charged attacks
Like little ratchet rabbit rappers
Now feel the wrath and rapture of a ravishing
Rabid rapping raptor
That's

mind, videogames and screen-time
I'm catching shade? You spent days in an arcade

Invented and perfected by Generation X
Hip-Hop, the internet, and what

On gang, bitch-bitch, we swervin'
Hop out a SCAT, all black matte
Hop out, woo
Gang, gang

The opps got a party, I just got the loc'
I bet you we beat

~Verse 1~

Cleveland buddie, yeah the city by the lake
if you wanna holla at me in the land is where I stay
I'm from Cleveland homie, fuck all these

built hip-hop
From the ground up, it was just a idea
So I'ma pay tribute
Yo, I'm an Outcast
My exhibit is raw
Nevertheless, I kept it Dougie Fresh
Yes,

I be blackin' out on beats
Even niggas started callin' me a racist
Like Aunt Jemima
I need an Oscar, they admire my wiener
They blowin' me like

to play
I ain't no pop star but she like Beyoncé
Poor eating pop tarts ain't name brand it's fake
But
She sweet like strawberries
Told her come wit' me
Told

Boys on my side like pentagon
They wanna hop on the wave, never let em on
They ain't ever stopping my fate, better let em run
Picking a fight, bitch I'm

Some double C and double G shit
I thought ya'll said I would't be shit
How I hop in, pulled off, brand new UFO and it's not a rental
Two soles tied em

Look
The world is your oyster kid
You live and you die by your choices
You can be poised or you can be boisterous
Your life will depend on which

a cheater
Check some boxes, Brand new stripes (Got Damn)
But somehow I don't step in Adidas
Tighten my durag (Yeah)
Hop in my Six in the morning (Skrrtt)

hair, grow our crops and make our food?
I know it's not gonna be me, I am not in the mood
To hop on a big green tractor like my name is Jason Aldean

Face On My Wrist (HMM-HMM!)

Put c Least On Your Bitch (HMM-HMM!)

Cause She c Bad Little Bitch (HMM-HMM!)

Might Have Her Hop On My Shit 

Young Nigga

creep where you sleep
Go to mass and you get shot
By a little freak
Yo talk is cheap
Guns for funds
Ya can’t stop whats inside my lungs
In Aztlan we be

plot 
They turned rap into a fashion show
Brands and Clothes Xanax popping 
Brag and boast with Catchy flows
Acting like they can’t be stopped
This is my

American Pie

Catch Twenty-Two

Washed Up and Through the Ringer

2001

These punk motherfuckers now a hip hop crew?
Naw, we just having some fun.
A little somethin' we wanna get done.
Anyone say a word, better shut

trees and yoga
Health, reason over, my trail leads to roma
By way of sodoma where i fell into a coma
The hip hop jehova, hit back with lessons
Lyrical

I’ma start this and then I’m gonna end it
Carted away like it’s dead shit
You see the rabbit? Son, I’ll play it
I’ma have it for dinner
Even though I