Lyrics:
the joint this year right? (Yeah)
Planets got the dubs and live to grass-hop
Duck out from the fuzz, that sweat the hip-hop
Risin' like we foam, get it
the joint this year, right? (Yeah)
Planets got the dubs and live to grass-hop
Duck out from the fuzz, that sweat the hip-hop
Risin' like we foam, get it
as Hip-Hop rocks to the break of dawn
Don't nobody leave til six in the morn'
And they all come home like the "Children of the Corn"
Just here to make
and a player
Sometimes I bum hip-hop,the other times slayer
You don't like it
Well stay out of my fucking way
Duck for the gunshot and watch to the ricochet
New York litty
Fly Papis in the club
Came thru Drippin
Pulled up wit the Day 1z
And We all Tipsy
All Eyes On us
Cuz We So Pretty
Bouta get bouta get
NY
better than y'all
And by the way, rest in peace 'Pac and Biggie Smalls, yeah
This the real hip hop
(Ay, you know we miss you 'Pac and Biggie)
This
But i'm not feeling your mix tape brother
I think you made a big mistake brother
You're not hip-hop that's a piss take brother
Yeah, I like your mix
spin your boat around, leave suckers lost in the bay.
You want to play? I'll hook your line to a stingray.
Get out of here with that boat and a stick,
Don't get it twisted you should get it how you live it don't stop
But it hit a lil different when it's real hip hop
Get your money no hate we don't
Hip Hop
T-G-O-D
Getting high, rolling weed up for e'ryone to know me
T-G-O-D
In the club, popping bottles, blowing weed by the O-Z
T-G-O-D
And you know
hop, I drip-drop
I flip-flop with them white tube socks
It go sherm sticks, watch me burn this
That’s what the chronic smell like
When them chemicals mix
imagery that
Hip Hop is
A love of form routed in stupidity
Why is this? I'm sure we can
Figure it out ourselves right?
We ain't got time to bitch and whine
If it's meant to be hip-hop if you're not mentally as well
Ready to absorb the rhyme that I just poured
Into the mic and so unite and this won't be
If it's meant to be hip-hop if you're not mentally as well
Ready to absorb the rhyme that I just poured
Into the mic and so unite and this won't be
we don't give a fuck
It's not your birthday!
Hip Hop Music
Hip Hop Music
You can find me in the club, bottle full of bub
Look mami I got the X
fuckin on real twins
I was down bad now a nigga get club spins
I’m smoking on gas, yea I’m smoking on Runtz bitch
No we can’t work this shit out this not
thought I was soft like a slush
Chicagods crush cause they think toys r us
Hip (hip what) hop
This funky hip (hip what) hop
Is funky hip (hip what) hop
This
hard with my hip hop force
My words so cold they known to freeze up warts
The scope is focused, notice no hocus pocus
Your girl's a square, but she'll
in common is they both pay respect to me
I get it my way from Friday to Friday
My girl is a mix of Aaliyah and Sade
I came a long way from that
Y’all call that love we call that southern hospitality you get,
When you fall off in the club they holla Nappy’s in that bitch,
Stilley didn’t rip on any
the wit when the band plays
An itty bitty bit of hippity hip hip hop can stay
Now listen to what the man say
Get up! Get up! Get up
This is rock n roll
Get
standing on two feet
While I make the hotties move to the hip-hop beat
You know it's realer killer, realer than you can imagine
Using every source of pain
Hop on my shoulder
Coming harder than boulders
I told ya
I say it ain't over till it's over
They say Hip Hop no get future
They say dog Hip Hop
the club, 50 deep flocka body guard
They say Waka Flocka always starting riots
Get money gut mother fuck diet
Everybody know I got a sack man
I got
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