a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

letra de i never - cyne

[verse 1 – akin]
i never brag about the crack i sell
see, my rap rebel
using metaphoric rap that sound like murder
my compet-tion’s unheard of
akin to pull a b-tch-n-gga card—now al is alberta
just like the old saying
yeah, these foes are playing
but my pro-slave foe, so your flow’s game
i run around with bad thoughts astounding
faces in the crowd may doubt my moral grounding
i’m quite sane though, playing without a kango
when this year, i’m running and gunning—mc’s are lame, so
they’re better off dead, i’m letting off lead
middle finger, fake artist, scribe slave on your head—i’m ready
speech aesthetic, you get it, edit the bullsh-t
which quasi-intellect need a fix? i bought a toolkit
screw you. f-ck abusing a plier, you’s a liar
a raindrop’ll put out your fire. n-gga who you? be
stepping at these immaculate mc with vocabulary
that never talk about sh-t that i ain’t never done
and try to stunt it like some b-tch–ss n-gga holding wands
i’m that n-gga that’s speaking the truth
repping africa. we here—now these cowards are through
we blew out your flame ‘cause we reign eternal
never talk sh-t when topic at hand don’t concern you

[verse 2 – akin]
n-gga, listen. i’m still the real, so don’t forget
blow the guns poetic, hang a cracker by the neck
bet. yes, intelligent africans got this
lock with the key to open sesame, i’m lochness
monster when i bang right out the closet—freedom rang
but not on a h0m- tip. that nat turner burn a b-tch
stone pigeon in a ditch, left for the birds and sh-t
start ground for earth to shift price—now control that
slow, i went from garveyite to pro-black
to universal n-gga, rocking mics—f-ck the throwback
blow, ‘cause i was taught by some old cats
on how to cause terror with planning and k!ll your kodak
moment—that’s -ssuming you was caught in the blast
snap back to earth where jacks jump for the cash
and they ask why my pants sag, exposing my -ss
and white confederate dads get stabbed in the abs
know the pen’s sharp as the wit, and so is the pad
upon which computers flinch at a sight while i laugh
scribbling bars. now we got water for mars
for those that crave for the lactose and cookies in jars
n-gga

- cyne

letras aleatórias

MAIS ACESSADOS