Lyrics:
of that loving
Loving, loving
I'm tryna love you 'til you sweating, give me all you got left
We done started from the bottom, made it to the top step
I do,
Over the border
You know we picking that shit up
Let's get it!
Yelling
Fuck 5-0 from the rooftops
Big bright chain
Popping caps like a screw top
Let me put you on some game today, half these cats are a waste of space
Other half non stop cap just to make a name
Your homies let you drop
ain't no other
Trini-born black like Nia Long's grandmother
Tip and Sha they all that, Phife-Dawg ditto
Honey tell your man to chill, or else you'll be
bullets in the chamber
Ain't nothing like when you get popped and don't know who to blame-a
Nigga told me, "Do your dirt all by your lonely"
So I go hit
climb to the tip top.
We stretch it, like Elastic, You boys fake so plastic,
Eat a rapper face Lake Placid, takin' off like a rocket we blasting,
You
putting money on your head in that N.O
Girl that's S.D0t you don't know he on fire
Scared up and black like Omar from the wire
Boy that's S.D0t that nigga
higher than Me
The tip of the top
Even in Hip Hop
I get props
My arms wide open just like the toes in flip flops
You need to choose me cause Lucy's
a consequence for they own confidence
Don't hold my tongue, I say it with my chest
From my esophagus
But also, we could never be the same
You let your ego get
a bluff (That's not a bluff)
Top off in a light rain, don't put it up
(Don't put it up)
Two miles per hour, we crawl by
Let 'em look at us (Let 'em look
a fool
Cause I'm takin off from the tip-top of the key
with the rock passed by the Pharoahe M-O-N, see-H
the chosen lyrical soldier who backs me up
when
adamu, defacto
Death sever at the helm of an exacto
Im divine, i came from the sky
Now fuckin all your woman n drinkin all ir wine
Ur a servent by design
Drop your top, and roll with me
It's the Big Moe, and that E.S.G.
Boys bleeding blocks, in these H-Town streets
Man it's going down, making ghetto
Drop your top, and roll with me
It's the Big Moe, and that E.S.G.
Boys bleeding blocks, in these H-Town streets
Man it's going down, making ghetto
La música de Harry Fraud
Call her friend, let's have a ménage, oh
From the bottom, straight to the top, oh
We chop that work, we got that work
Bow-wow
Hold up, yeah, yeah
Top, Top
Uh, uh
It's a parade inside my city, yeah
Ass shakin', givin' head
Ain't no more county, product
fasta
You should of tried to beat me to the ticker yo
I don't give a fuck if Mr. Nitty bein hoe
Don't risk your neck from the brother on the bullevard
ever get old
I just dash in my whip then I cruise
Way you talk keeping me so amused
Rock designer from head to the top but i’m tired of talking so look
And drop a new banger like
Every two damn weeks
Stay down! Real nigga like ten toes deep
From the ground to yo head
And back to yo feet
It's very
rippin'
Those like gold ropes from the neck of hoes
Who shine with flashy clothes and
Tip on four Vogues
I'm offbeat in the dome like a bad snare
A young
that you might get upset about
But hear me out
I didn't mean nothing by it, I'ma make this quick
I gave your mama this dick
I don't know how it happened
with this talent
Brain swell up, whenever you come to me
You were the challenge
I need a way to balance street
Shit from the rap shit stay on my toes
the mic and I'm flowin'
Keep your both ears open
By the universe, I'm chosen
Causing a commotion
Beat is smoother than some lotion
Quit the useless
top
I’ll make your bedrock
Flip flop
Tip Top (Yeh)
Always clean the pain
Always wipe your tears (Your tears)
Always snipe the fears
No. No room to stay
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