I hate this, And I don't walkin around looking for it ya know But yesterday it seems just wonder around till it found me you know like Gossip found me Then why don't you try prove it How? You don't know how to prove it, Well what you just you do is.. Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, Stop hatin on a n*gga that is a weak emotion The lady of a n*gga And You can get tip like you waitin on a n*gga Put a body bag in the apron on a n*gga I give my all behind the mic But you could never see if you sit behind the light You don't have to pick me To win the title fight But I'm gonna win a championship belt so tight And if I'm wrong there is no right And if I'm wrong there is no white I'm triin to be polite But you bitches in my hair like the fuckin po-lice My flow is rare There's other rappers nice These other rappers bark Some other even bite But I'm much more bright I give the game sight So before you dim the light You just might might wanna Think it over, think it over, ooo think it over baby Stop! Stop analyzing Criticizing You should realize What I am is 'n start epitomizing Confident Got the heart of the biggest lion Confident like fuck em all Pull out my dick and ride it My flow sick so sick its like my shit is dyin' It rains a lot in my city Cuz my city's cry's' 'cuz my cities dyin'' But I emerge from all of that I am a livin' pioneer Zion Fear god not them Steer my robbin'' coupe through the streets to the booth Then I leave a tub in the booth I leave a blood bath Sorry there's a tub in the booth Now where the drugs at Like the strings on the shoe No nigga fuck that I'm twisted like the strings on a boot Where new Orleans at? I build hip hop store me like a bus pass So in your possession I must ask Hey haven't I been good to you tell me haven't I been sweet to you Drag my name through the mud I come out clean Cast away stones I wont even blink A gun is not a math problem I wont even think Just leave your dead like the mink under my sink Don't believe in me Don't believe me I graduated from hungry And made it to greedy My flow is like pasta Take it and eat it But I'm gonna need cheese if I'm makin' a ziti You niggas want beef I want a steak and a weevy Lost in Amsterdam but Jamaica where we be Hard body nigga takin' it easy All about my paper bout my paper like easy Why do rappers why do rappers lot a fans lot a rappers lot a rappers lie like that Cut the mutha fuckin camera Cut the check Fuck your props I AM hip hop & i aint dead I'm alive.
Название песни: Gossip
Текст песни добавил: pretty_girl
1440 просмотров с 2008-09-25 17:24:45
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