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letra de underground airplay - joey bada$

[produced by navie d]

[intro:]
f-f-f-for the underground

[verse 1: joey bada$$]
what you looking at?
i’m with the crooklyn pack
don’t front, we brought brooklyn back
you know where my lines is, where the hookers at
one punchline outshine ’em ‘fore i show ’em where the hook is at
where you at?
pro era info, you could book us at
we snot-noses don’t forget
where the boogers at
brown skin, curly hair, tell ’em j boog is back
i be too brick
insane in the membrane from the empire
but i keep my mind in the pen state
n-ggas wanna know how i keep my pen straight?
d-mn straight
how they trying to bite off of my template
based off they sentences
that ain’t got good penmanship
that get you clapped like an -ssembly
and that’s all that i was sent to say
let’s get a offer ‘fore sopa try to censor me
they provoked an immenser, intenser me
n-ggas thought they could relax but look tense to me
that’s all that i was sent to say
let’s get a offer ‘fore sopa try to censor me
they provoked an immenser, intenser me
n-ggas thought they could relax but look tense to me

[verse 2: smoke dza]
i walk around harlem blocks, pockets full of knots
n-ggas try to jock cause i smoke the best pot
road trips, i let my young chick rock
hold the work for a n-gga slide at the rest stop
hungry like a n-gga fresh out
sippin’ medicated punch, somewhere decked out
scribble my name, “x” your name out
f-ck off me, turpentine to get the stain out
n-gga my name ring bells from wellington to belgium
you get your p-ssport stamped seldom
f-ck around, kids you’re welcome
washed ’em up before the bell rung
f-ck your premonitions, my proposition to the opposition
is get down and lay down or pop up missin’
george kush, when it’s war, i’m firin’
money on your head, n-gga, change your mind

[verse 3: big k.r.i.t]
hey, let me ride, woah
let me rap a taste
we cut them corners like stoners ’til they evaporate
i had to break, no longer dancing by the rhythm of
plunder searching of suckers smoke f-ck it, i had to k!ll them, you know
n-ggas ain’t f-ckin’ with cinematic
half of these n-ggas ain’t even average
how is it the word cl-ssic gets tossed around
but f-ck them critics, i do this sh-t here for the underground
bubble hotter than molten lava that burn their summer down
itty bitty t-ttie sucker, where them hoes you claim you f-cking
all up on my jock again, i get around like pac and ’em
slamming sushi roll ties with teriyaki paint
i chop stick her dim sum enter the dragon
sho ‘nough, locusts, the gr-sshoppers is plenty
they peep my technique, but can never ever beat the sensei
shogun, try me n-gga, i know some, word to sant
i crush their vertebraes, my verbal plate can weigh a ton
elephant been in the room
they can’t decipher for the life of many biters that challenge us, how we still consume
cyphers of so many writers unlike us are surely doomed
a king remembered in time, i thought you knew

[outro:]
f-f-f-for the underground

- joey bada

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