Lyrics:
Yeah, sorta set him right on fire.
I looked on outta the window and I started countin' phone poles, goin' by at the rate of four to the seventh power.
never really rate none of these
I come from brass festival and from customs
And from flour mills
Wasa fete, fire fete and licensing fete
And them had
stakes, the next guys wake
Try ta fly strait, not violate if you wanna die late
The tri-state, crime at a high rate, where peoples dilate
Gun shots that
Money in my pocket
Setting fire to a second rate dream
Cashing a check in
You've gotta change the dead red like a mean green
A crime less time
cruisin'
But I, keep cruisin', cruisin', 'sin
Cruisin', feelin' good, yo
I remember livin' in the hood bro
Death rate high and the funds low
When I
and never forget.'
We've been lost, been to the bottom
Beaten up, torn and forgotten
Still we fight, we will survive
Can't kill the fire we feel inside
the bag waitin', all night (Damon, we back)
Tell them that it's lit, bitch, we on fire
Ayy, praise to the Most High
Ayy, praise to the Most High
Uh,
black white latin latino there won't be no extra
Space
To waste,pick up the pace,send your heart rate and if you
Start
To
Hyperventilate
(Chorus)
Breathe
a bullet in a big one I'm letting go
Fire fire
Turned to the bad guy
Soon as I clocked you were pagan
Still watch but you don't really rate him
They still
fingers like vogue bitches
I can't go backwards on 4th an a goal bitches
My pro rate is mandate
The family stands staked
The fire house couldn't keep up
from ringing
You ain't got drip
Ima drop you innit
Man Fuck your squad
Ima pop you wid him
Anybody wanna clash me
Now's is your time
Fire shots out ima
I'm on fire, I'm on fire
Me too, Me too
Gunz yo
I keep one in my pillowcase
It keeps me safe when I sleep
Still I keep awake
What if my dream girl
fry 'fore I bother you
I'm no fire, baby I done got me a spot
It's the Commission rich man represented by cops
(Chorus - 2x)
I'm on fire, on fire
granny stay awake
Tip toeing to my fate, at this rate love wins over hate
Soul strong never break, go along make yo way
Cook ya' own self a plate, they
to hear G
They might switch their style if they hear me
They rate me, clearly
Hold on, is that what they're on?
My ears are starting to heat up
"I've got
kiss me
My heart rate goes wild
And when you hold me
I feel my soul is on fire
I love the way we are
We are
I love the way we shine
We shine
The world is
Dropping a tape and we coming around
Locking the safe unbaggin the crown
Chopping up rates in a lyricist lounge
Bossing the bass we aint dumbing it down
When you're the one making the weapons mans getting
Crime rate stats mean nothing
When you pussy holes ain't down here actually checking (mhm)
How
ruthless
Say you'll take my head but they just never do it
Bitches stop and stare, ah
Made in hell
Fire and flame like Hades
Focus opened my wealth
I
Those who try to flee they hit the vertebrae, increase the murder rate
Similar to hit men who pull out Tecs and then
Drop those who crack like tacos
I'm number one, that's how I rate
He's in the place with the bass, and style and grace
His name is J he's here to play, and win this race
He's off
on your pillowcase
That thrills you
And you started looking much older
And your fashion sense is second rate like your perfume
But to you in your little
Accurate
Inna the Town
A redder fire Rasta Man a Burn out Inna di town
Inna Di Town
A redder fire Rasta Man a Burn out Inna di town
Inna Di Town
Eeh
Ah yeah, it's got to that all important
Time of the show once again
My favourite part
Of the show, Fire In The Booth but
As you can see, the settings
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