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Check it out now, I work the pen to make the ink transform |
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On any particular surface the pen lands on |
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The camera stands on, what's the beef? |
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The Cooley High, cold chief, high post techniques |
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I drape off poetic landscapes and shapes |
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Illustrate the paper space off the pens that paint |
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Then design what have a National Geographic a magic |
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With Taylor made status and plus favored is automatic |
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We're not balling |
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We take it back to the days of yes y'all-in' |
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We holding onto what's golden |
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On a stage I rage and I'm rollin' |
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We're not balling or shot calling |
|
We take it back to the days of yes y'all-in' |
|
We holding onto what's golden |
|
On a stage I rage and I'm rollin' |
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Melancholy mundane, so I tame the hot flame |
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Big rings, fat chains and y'all quest for the same |
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No name, use fame, strictly new to the thang |
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We stay true to the game and never bring it to shame |
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We tight like dreadlocks or red fox and ripple |
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We pass participles and smash the artist in you |
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The saga continues, this I won't get into |
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'Cause there ain't enough bars to hold the drama that we been through |
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Yo, we still the same with a little fame |
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A little change in the household name but ain't too much changed |
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We in the game but, yo, not to be vain |
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I refrain from salt grains to season up my name |
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We entertain for a mutual game from close range |
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Steady aim, drum at your head to hit the brain |
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I'm labor ready, Rhode Scholar for the dollar |
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Work for mines pay me by the hour |
|
We're not balling |
|
We take it back to the days of yes y'all-in' |
|
We holding onto what's golden |
|
On a stage I rage and I'm rollin' |
|
We're not balling or shot calling |
|
We take it back to the days of yes y'all-in' |
|
We holding onto what's golden |
|
On a stage I rage and I'm rollin' |
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Hip-Hop |
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Music |
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Music |
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Music |
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Yo, well, it's the verbal Herman Munster |
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The word enhancer, sick of phony mobsters controllin' the dance floor |
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I been in dark places, catch you when you stark naked |
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Your heart races as we pump you for your chart spaces |
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The taut taces be bringing these hot styles through |
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Some of you bum a few chairs from shock value |
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Word power can plow through acres of cornfields |
|
Paragraphs cut like warm steel, preform ill |
|
We're not balling |
|
We take it back to the days of yes y'all-in' |
|
We holding onto what's golden |
|
On a stage I rage and I'm rollin' |
|
We're not balling or shot calling |
|
We take it back to the days of yes y'all-in' |
|
We holding onto what's golden |
|
On a stage I rage and I'm rollin' |
