Lyrics:
take you through a tunnel of thought
Wit no support now you got caught off guard
By the number one scar from the Illa-Fifth
Lyrically fulfillin' this
to hang or link, my future man I'm gambling
My handle really handling, full speed traveling
Focused on the tracks now the tracks need a following
Homie saw
don't work in the beat, I'm like a housing cop
How they thirst in the streets, it's like they outta rock
No publicity stunts before the album drop
What
All these producers send me tracks now it's a dead beat
You saw that boy well tell him I said he's a dead beat
I taught myself to be a man now you see
Off to work we go
In the weapon factory
I'm on a super high
Shooting through my life on a superbike
Too precise inciting mcs
Into their suicide
Do
towels (ok)
They been snortin' powder, I been in here takin' downers (ok)
They been countin' for hours, gettin' kisses by the thousands (ok)
Money
the the resurgence of the soul sound
You know, I got to come in and track the beat
And at the time I was still with my other management
I really wanted to roll
is
Her specialty, after all hands come up
One by one "Oh my god, Rihmeek, "
Nicki groans exaggeratedly, invoking Meek's
Middle name for effect "Every
Yuh
Whole life been a trip, stayed moving
I was bad ass kid, almost went to Juvie
Used to get groovy to the beats and write about my future
Now my
Words by Adrian Mitchell, music by Arlo Guthrie
Victor Jara of Chile
Lived like a shooting star
He fought for the people of Chile
With his songs
panels to the ring of a unifying blood pact
Broken in by reckoning that greed and money was the right track
So I fly into the night
Astral project
dub on the track
Yo, I'm the type of man who
Puts the truth on the track
The future of rap, Righteous!
You ain't gonna ask who's that
D-d-d do you know
Lost a relation, but I vented out the blue
Put it into music, conversation with the crew
Rapid fire tracks, how many verses did I rap?
Wrote a whole
ass tweeted ahh
Yeah my bass kicking gotta fat beat
I stayed hitt gotta fat b
It's the slay edition out the factory
I can paint a picture
With ya
y'all" "To the beat y'all" "To the beat y'all" "To the beat y'all"
Y'knahmsayin? Ain't no future in yo' frontin
I never got caught with a kilo
If you ever
competition into casualties
First track gotta show all the people that I can rap
Combat anybody who talking behind my back
Face facts I'm the future and pretty
up
In the future on the weekends
Fuck a first date, she ain't getting food
But I'ma stuff her face, hold my head high
On the beat, I'ma straight up
But somehow we've gotten off-track
And we never really got it back, no, yeah
I think we better find a way, yeah
And get right back to the good old
(Verse 1)
In a quiet town, life used to be
Simple and peaceful, by the old oak tree
But then the factories came with their might
Global trade casting
on tracks you should know if you get in my way that I never let up
There's some people that need to hear truth they get beat down by lies and get told that
Track runner, I run it up
Accountant, I count it up
Track runner, I run it up
Accountant, I count it up
Cha Ching
Track runner, I run it up
they've dried naturally
Accolades from laying tracks like a rap factory
Get sacked, cause I'm back - tackling raps like I'm an athlete
Quit your
half a line
In the future life, I don't even have to rhyme
We'll get the entire Armageddon with only half the signs
Just yields and rail roads
In
for y'all
And my voice is messed up too, this is the last track of Young Sinatra
Yeah, yeah
Back in the day I wasn't shit, homie
Penny pinching I
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