Lyrics:
expect a new album from me by May (Huh?)
Why am I even trying to get you come my way? (My way)
Working everyday, especially on Friday (Work)
I make vibes
thing.
He bussing heads hu, lets keep it real,
I got the documents to prove you's a snitching ass nigga.
Trying to hide behind your music, you hit
finna die
How I’m supposed to have faith in me and say it’s not a lie
It’s funny how when I’m in the studio Penn be talking for Malcolm
Hop on an album
About me now, so who gonna keep up
If you stay surrounded by the clouds
We should meet up
Talking bout that Bud
That Flame
That Kush that Mary Jane
I roll
be one with god and one with you and everything else
[Hook]
[Immotal Technique talking]
Yeah..
Revolutionary Volume 2 has been brought to you
By
their music
Underground conspiracy, but this ain't used by No Limit
Mad 'cause you didn't blow up, the victim of your own wack gimmick
But some fools
album and it's gonna be great!"
And I'm
Taking all of the love and all the advice
And I am making music whatever the sacrifice
But never faking, 'cause I
a feeling that you get
When you get something of your chest
Turn that pain into a vibe
You bob your head to once awhile
My goal now is to make
Music that
Still ain't hear about no fuckin' deals
First album I was in my feels, second album, gettin' off the pills
Third album switcha demographic, still
with this shit for half a year)
Didn't break a bone?
U fucking soft
Leave a home and throw a rock
Scar on my head
Don't give a fuck
(Living well, no
to stop by and check us out sometime
He looked at me like I'm out my mind
Shook his head like, "White boys don't know how to rhyme"
I spit out a line
when the dope game got dangerous
In my interviews talking plug talk
On my last album I explained it (I explained it)
With a fork telling you let
cocky till gun a gun cocking
Thats enough watching from the sidelines, peeking my eye by
All I knew i had to jump in, I'll be a nice guy
Three albums in I
mattress through the roof
This for my niggas getting brown paper bag money
This for my strippers getting black plastic bag money
We're talking that bad
all I make is dance music
But to almost anything
You can dance stupid
They ain't like the single
But they ain't cop the album
Wouldn't give a chance
Talking about the shots you miss
Won't talk about the shots you make
My little bitch want Gucci slides
I tell her go head snatch em
She let me use that
It's not usual, the game be, all up on some South shit
Straight west coasting, you can tell by my outfit
Red 'nati fitted, "Blood in, Blood out"
test tube baby}
Check one two, check one two
De La Soul, is now back on the map
Long Island, is now back on the map
Good rap music, is now back
listen up, I'll spit some fire
Talking 'bout hacking, it's my desire
KiwiBot's in my sight, gonna take it down
With Anonymous by my side, we'll wear
brown paper bag money
This for my strippers getting black plastic bag money
We're talking that bad money, that I.R.S can tax money you dig me
[Rick
Angel Tapes
Ay, ay
(DJ CPT JHN)
With my gang gang gang
We get money every day
Cerr been getting too much chicken
I'm not talking raising canes
With my
rappers make you comfortable
Culture shock
Y'all gon have to deal with me
Wait until my album drop
They thought we was one and done
If you offended by my
evidence for
If these things are what you mean by God
Then I believe in God but I
Don't believe in a personal
God to whom I look for comfort or for a
Natural
Airplanes flyin', overseas people dyin'
Politicians lyin', I'm tryin'
Not to escape, but hit the problem head-on
By bringin' out the truth in a song
So
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