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 my favorite things/if it ain't real - prime-one

my favorite things

summertime,pretty girls,sports on the tv
money and music,nice cars and some c.c
having fun,good friends,hip-hop,and f-cking
these are a few of my favorite things

when this life throws me some hard blows
and tries to knock out my lights
i think about all of my favorite things
and that makes me feel all right

oh yeah

if it ain’t real

(chorus)

if it ain’t real,i won’t fake it
if it ain’t good,i don’t spit it
if it ain’t dope,i don’t make it
if it ain’t fresh,i’m not touchin’ it
if it ain’t raw,i won’t f-ck with it
if it ain’t hot,i don’t jot it
if it ain’t mint,i won’t print it
do you get the hint yet?
if it ain’t real,it ain’t me and it’ll never be
so as long as i got game,i play it cleverly

1st verse

this is not pop music,it’s hip-hop music
jolt you with high-voltage electrical shock music
some thought provocative,lava hot music
sonic dynamite,blow up your boombox music
i’m back at it,makin’ a set of tracks that’s
‘smokin” more than your typical crack addict
got a rap habit,i ain’t tryin’ to quit
what are you nuts? (ha!) i’m so fly with this sh-t
in every song on down to every stanza
my plan’s to show ‘who’s the boss’ like tony danza
you want extravaganzas,leave it to me
i’ll get on top of the task most immediately
“who can spit this mean over sick sixteens?”
the answers’s obvious if you’re listening
to me,whether on cd or mp3
my flow’s ‘sl!ck’ like oil spilled by bp (chorus)

2nd verse

me without a rhyme’s like a clock without the time
a glock without a trigger,a ghetto without the crime
a bank without money,shoes without a size
h-ll,it’s like a politician without the lies
and so on and so forth,you just know it makes no sense
some things are a given,some ain’t,so hence
it’s only logical,basic knowledge,i rip sh-t
unless you’re missin’ hands,it ain’t hard to ‘grip’ it
i’m one of the best in the business,bar none
off lyrics alone,i’m due for stardom
while you snooze,i’m up late,plottin’ the ways
i could strike and leave the whole of hip-hop in a daze
(d-mn!) so put that wack sh-t back on the shelf
you won’t find this kind of rap anywhere else
you can search the world over with a fine tooth comb
turn over every stone,my style’s my own (chorus)

3rd verse

sometimes i can’t resist the urge to blister with words
spit verses that have the illest rappers flip me the bird
i’m a menace with a pen,some of my numerous lyrics
suggest i’m a demon disguised in a human’s appearance
i’m the weaving of intrigue and magic at once
i’m like a d-ck to a sl-t that ain’t had it in months
i’m like smack to a junkie,steroids to barry bonds
i’m like classified documents to julian assange
i’m a pleasure that ain’t guilty,i ain’t a
saint though,both my f-ckin’ mouth and my brain’s filthy
mean and obscene,rotten and lewd
clean up my act? f-ck you,i am not in the mood
i’m a player on which to keep eyesight peeled
’cause i provide enough ‘game’ to fill a highlight reel
that’s the way it is,i play my position,after
you listen to this sickness,consult a physician (chorus)

- prime one

letras aleatórias

MAIS ACESSADOS