Lyrics:
Jays to control a sound
But D-Nice, you're gonna make the party live
[D-Nice]
Bust it, yo
I love to diss whores, I love to do tours
Makin
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
stall
Stutter, softer than melted butter
There's no other word, go ask your mother
Hard solid as your city
Born in Brooklyn, can tell by the way that
on the board and jumped right into the deep end. Before they could react. I just started swimming. They love that story.
At this time in my life, I kept saying
that
I owe you one for making my shit sound on another galaxy cause
Compared to your tracks, my shit is Mozart to classical fans
Not talking back, cause
but end up getting smacked in the mouth
see a real nigga believe in beatin them hoes down
push they head into the wall until you hear dat crackin sound
Slide into the SV like a DM
Bounce off the wall like a reverb in the deep end
Wrote the essay never made a thesis
She stopped showing love
Everybody loves the things you do
From the way you talk
To the way you move
Everybody here is watching you
'Cause you feel like home
You're like
to dustin'?
Yeah, latex on my draws, bitch, go clean my crown
Can't hear my haters from way up here, they don't make a sound
Body goals on these hoes, white
surround
Tearin' through towns, turn 'em into burial grounds
This is the track that made Theodore wanna scratch
The track that caused the first kid
Though it's easy for a loser
To be jealous of a winner that's
Just the way that it is
Do you ever look back at
Some of your performances and
Look at your
back then, lil bro still had some
Changed my ways like NLE, can't be a hoodlum
Feel like Ramsey, Walter White, come here and cook up
Life is made from
so crazy, saying I'm less
Way less important, I should just listen to all the voices cause they know best
Sounds in my head
The sounds in my head
burning off, layered thick,
a cargo that I haul, wounds and loves unresolved.
I wake up with the sun in my eyes.
The present moment tries
but now I'm back
Maybach was way back
Now you got nothin' to show for
(chauffeur) it whatever I want I go get
Paid for, I ain't owin' shit
Drop a check, you in debt
That's
and
Hacked up left on your back stretched cutty
I'll fuck your ass up
I'll stab you into the past tense buddy
You ain't survivin' this crash
The impact will
Well, there was this movie I seen one time
About a man riding 'cross the desert and it starred Gregory Peck
He was shot down by a hungry kid trying
I ride into your mind by surprise on phased lasers
cnd slice into your eyes like Bunuel with crazed razors
Cuz yes I am un chien andalous
she had been
Led straight into the DeKalb dressing room
Named for the street that bisects
A couple of local neighborhoods now
Populated by yuppies but
are
Against saying what we want to say the right way
Ya know what I'm saying, so what we're gonna do
Is kick back, swing a little funky beat by my
are
Against saying what we want to say the right way
Y'know what I'm saying, so what we're gonna do
Is kick back, swing a little funky beat by my man
Of course let's get back to
The subject at hand
The mixtape the public demands
Wanna download it to their porn disc drive
Drive by! Pedestrians in a panic
tracks
Ear to ear I can't have 'cause the fear my peers defamed rap
Now we
Gotta get back to the music
Gotta give back to the youth this product
are
Against saying what we want to say the right way
Ya know what I'm saying, so what we're gonna do
Is kick back, swing a little funky beat by my
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