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letra de 77 buick - cornel west theory

p-ss the new balance my n-gga
and a trigga that can end it for the whole world
guard gold girls and then fly from lo-lo
higher than polo, i riot of dolo
pilot off solo and go-go
k!llen em softly in slo mo
a yo bro, i can’t take it no mo
i tried atonement but time is the opponent of the moment
i got distracted and old quick
the street freezer burns dumb soldiers
with lead splinters
on winter and summer solstice
but enough of this depressed spewing
a ask me how i’m doin
how u doin? i’m ji aight
i’m broke but feelin shine from the limelight
whateva in hindsight, a brutha never really struggled
so i thank my father ronald dobbins
he gave me arms to bomb goblins
and if u got a problem then u got a problem
can’t apologize and you can’t for me
so if u want a sorry then sorry
swim the waters on some johnny-ish
pendellum liftin swingin
shiftin poly rhythmic
my ingenuity dont allow limits or to mimic gimmicks
i pivot prolific and forgiveness isn’t in the judge’s sentence
that’s why i spell spells in every sentence
discard the litmus test as long as god accepts me
that’s divine recipe, stirrin’ ingredients
cookin longevity, open up that
paschal beverly randolph
dark and light tug of war
stuck at a standoff
man falls man rise stand strong
hands off all manifestations
healin on my tongue brewin
this is miller vs ewing
yall can’t spike what i’m doin
1977 + 1, now shut the buick
and drive

i’m riding in my 77 buick
you said, we couldn’t do it
youngin’, we did it
you think i give a sh-t
what you think
straight fumes no gas in the tank
grind dirty (last bar)

point blank (last bar)
point blank (last bar)

music for the riders
the drivers, regular 9 to 5ers
lions and the vipers
its raining, raining
put on yourwipers
smoking, where’s my lighter?
we cut from that mud cloth fibre
potent in the cipher
eternally raw, beat grinder
s-slang tiger, i’m a trained sniper
mayne, we overcame the pain
to move your brain higher
the flames hotter
feel the mothaf-ckin’ stove
no kitchen, straight pitching
in the mothaf-ckin cold
but it’s getting old, dog
y’all wanna be o’ dog
until you p-ssin’ in prison
missing them phone calls
bones fall in rome
hold these, i got my own b-lls
from dix street, tim 2 deep
beat the stonewall
i own y’all, no lean
i won’t fall
protein in each bar
so mean, no sweetheart
so clean the lines between
they leave t–th marks
in each spot, without goons
slim, i’m street smart
cha! burn out di ras clot!
dem wonder if mi ago
dead up inna graveyard
they only wanna see my n-ggas
in the graveyard dem never know
that i n i and i’s a braveheart
youngins is brainwashed
some of them hate god
tension’s the trademark
penicillin that paints art
loud in my engine
straight vincent, watch the van go
belly full o’ lead huddy ledbetter
banjo, staying out the bando
why? ’cause it’s a trap door
started from the bottom
what the f-ck, would you go back for?
sucks what’s the act fo?
you embarr-ssing black folks
straight jokes, tell me what the
f-ck you n-ggas rap for?
you frontin in blackface
wit’ your back broke
burn all the mp3s that
freeze mine and freeze time
i squeeze 9, believe mine
i’m just a reverend with a message
and medicine meant to free minds

i’m riding in my 77 buick
you said, we couldn’t do it
youngin’, we did it
you think i give a sh-t
what you think
straight fumes no gas in the tank
grind dirty (last bar)

point blank (last bar)
point blank (last bar)

- cornel west theory

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