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letra de dog (o.g. mix) - kenautis smith & race bannon

kenautis smith & race bannon – “dog (o.g. mix)”
[emcee(s): race bannon (aka racetacula)]
[producer(s): kenautis smith]
[scratches: kenautis smith]

[verse 1: race bannon (aka racetacula)]
they’re
animals, savages, gone barbaric
all for the cabbage, parsley, and carrots
blue diamonds, purple stuff in your cup
you’re lucky [?] popped in your
face like “what?!?” with the funk, so get ‘em up
like cialis. they’re c-minus average
meaning they’re lacking understanding, planning
it’s the same thing that grows a boy into a man
some you’ll tell ‘em, they’ll get it. others got to live it
confined to a box of pine or in prison
listen, this is just the cold facts, holmes. i don’t
care if you hate. i’ll say it with more backbone
what you standing on? a paper empire?
i’ll throw a flame to it, gasoline, and a lighter
you could be a fighter, but what you fighting for? if every-
-body got a slice, then we should own a store—that’s
the problem. y’all just think too small
wanna buy out the mall. i’m thinking building worldwide
and sell ‘em off, then nail ‘em to the wall like a
frame for a picture or your dame when she came by my
house, left out all giggly and twisted. the
prescription high-doses, the private diagnosis
injected in your ear to clean your state of comatose, just
what the doctor ordered—hop up and get on it
lethal, diesel, basil, cilantro
picante by way of alejandro
tiptoe, kiddo, or just don’t try it
‘cause we ain’t gonna take it like a quiet riot, so
roll on like deodorant on tires
bounce and stay drier when fire gets higher and you
start to perspire. just stand and admire

[bridge: scratches by kenautis smith]

[verse 2: race bannon (aka racetacula)]
yeah, this ain’t
a dj and a rapper. it’s an emcee and producer—matter
fact, this what happens when the past meets the future
present-day mayhem, bellarmine chaos
i moonwalked the sun and drank fire to stay hot
i p-ssed out lava and sh-tted out diamonds
i’m out my mind like no rope when mountain-climbing
time in and time out, i’ll put dope lines out
like i was at charlie sheen’s house with amy winehouse
now what you whining about, you snotty-nosed punks?
talking ‘bout “remember the time?” man, who gives a f-ck?
“it ain’t where you’re from, son. it’s where you’re at, jack”
if you want to take it back, rakim said that (“the r”)
my point is: there’s nothing new under the sun
so what you’re trying to do already been done
that’s one jewel. now here’s another one:
it ain’t what your do. it’s ‘bout how it gets done

- kenautis smith race bannon

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