Lyrics:
the Iceni:]
In the aftermath of our defeat at Mandeussedum, I was captured by Romans with
a veiled intent... (though three of them died at my hands in
for the bin
No chit chat we split all the P's
Then straight to the bands til we turn some Ms
Crew stay up like pilot
And my word stay solid
But with you
shifts when we know our history
Let's see if the clout mix up the minds of amphibians
Long johns on calm M's in my call log
I was called off now I'm called
do
Making tunes all we do, driving by the ocean
Nothing new with my crew, just getting promotion
Want the blues and the views, can't be steady coasting
Iraq
My crew bust back, we're cap peeling
Your crew dealing, in a box with no feeling
Informer type, that's what you get for squealing
It's the money
to the brothers
Smile, you little human, smile, for you're sane.
By the way, what's sanity? They don't care about it.
In fact, they worry about nothing. They
(Chorus) 2x
I'm real if you here or not.
For my day ones to the day I die
We aint lose no sleep for the weary eye
Cause friendship 7 is all we got
[instrumental and Spanish speaking for 19 seconds]
[Keith Korg]
Astro Jetman, flight attendant, American Airlines
DC-10 with engine built to my back
Niggas (Niggas), Bitches (Bitches)
Uhmm, this is some player shit right here
Holler at my home girl on this one, Mia
Moma Mia, Have you seen her
they got moved by these hard-rock Brooklyn kids
Us flow a rush when the DJ's boomin classics
You dig the crew on the fattest hip hop records
He touch
then I'm snatchin' her purse
Port city baddie, i just wanna fuck
City too crazy, so I keep it tucked
Live by the gun, die by the gun
Talk on my bro's
just made some bands tonight
Can't have no fear
What it is with this shit
Man it's fight or flight
Locked in real one
My Type it's like
Im a goat in
We like the breeze flow straight out of our lids
Them they got moved by these hard-rock Brooklyn kids
Us floor rush when the DJ's booming classics
We like the breeze flow straight out of our lids
Them they got moved by these hard-rock Brooklyn kids
Us floor rush when the DJ's booming classics
on me, I been posting everyday, and I ain't got patience homie,
I just spent an hour on a vid, that sh* look straight from Sony
Got beat by a 7 second
That's right, on the seventh
That's right, on the seventh
Seven, seven, seven
The following program has been brought
To you by Rhymesayers Entertainment
I feel like the best
My team never stress
Never stress
I feel like the best
My team never stressed
Who's been taking over
They don't need a second
raining outside, chill, listen to the drizzle
Now kiss my chest, call me Superman
Pull down my boxers by the Calvin Klein band
Wash it, enjoy the flavor,
Tryna rock a second Millie on my right hand
Swear to God they gon feel it this is my chance
I’m so gone ain’t no telling where I might land
With
the opposition offended
Talkin' greens on other sides of fences
We are blinded by our five lit, senses
Tryin' to drive this hive brain, Demented
Well I stay dazed
the fifth eat shit, you'll step off
Six is your beatdown, your title is seven
Takin out your four man crew makes eleven
By the twelveth I go for self
and cable, plus they labeled me Savage
For the love of it
Till my death, they stay on sum other shit
Pops shoot, second nut, inherited his stuborness
Skies are
by my lonely, on my own, I had to level up
Trap out with my OG, cookin' yola, run the cheddar up (skrrt)
Cashed out on a Rollie, wrist so frozen, I
Divided by the seven seas
Ain't exchanging pleasantries
MiddleChild Records
But I'm feeling like the only son
And incase you didn't know
This one's for my
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