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letra de the lost generation - shyheim

motherf-ckin gp in the motherf-ckin house
with shorty shy

[rubbabandz]
yo.. yo.. i raise all h-ll when i, start to stain
crab n-ggas, i recon, you recognize the grain
i bring drama to your earpiece, when i bust
raps n-ggas collapse, in fact turn to slush
it only takes a second to die
it only takes a minute to get high
the hoods that i run with really don’t care
bustin at god with our pistols in the air

[pop da brown h-rnet]
no more loses, i’m bringin in da bosses
you wanna get rich, bet on me, motherf-ck them horses
i’m black, too good, deadly like a luger
i live day by day, but my mind set on the future
drunk with vexism, handin out bad desicions
got sh-t locked like state prisons
mc destroyer, bring it, i got somethin for ya
when i’m red n-ggas die from paranoia
sureshot, play yourself, get got, forget me not
or i’ll be runnin sh-t in ya’ spot
die hard, crackin sh-t, like ty cobb
keep it real, plus stay black, roll with a tight mob
forever high, i’m the type of guy to puff chocolate thai
then blow the smoke all in your eye
you’re blinded, the rap style i posess, you can’t find it
that’s why you wanna constantly rewind it

[down low reka]
yo, d. allah represent at sparkin mics like flint
with style that you can inhale and get the n-gga bent
cash rules, no choice but bein top biller
have ya blinded by the fire like that b-tch in the k!ller
you know i’m iller, than the caviar, with these rhythms
that’s acquired to break down immune systems
in any battle i’m-a come in first
with raw techniques that shock ya ear like a f-ckin curse
i like s-x after ballentine triple x
understandin, i run through hoes like barry sanders
n-ggas get lost in the land
reachin, it’ll cost your hand, now ya sink in the sand

[shyheim]
i’m-a live shorty, word up, the sh-t ain’t hard to tell
i k!ll verses, just like, napsilnac to sperm cells
my lifestyle, it didn’t change, i’m still the same
nike sneakers, guess jeans and gold chains
the rugged child be bringin drama to your system like drugs
live and direct, from new york like lugz
is it the ruckus you want, come and get that -ss lynched
you complain to throw, i play your jake with a twelve inch
kid, i be just f-ckin in the cut, on some shaolin what
jiggy-june bust a nut

[junelover]
who dares to test me, bring it to the cypher
n-ggas you don’t really wanna see the god hyper
active, make teachers run back for practice
and tell they proteges, they can’t f-ck with the tactics
so give me room, when i speaks with verbal knowledge
you put your best man, even if he went to college
with this mutation, i serve like a chef
what do you know, i be that n-gga squeezin air from your last breath
got you gaspin from suffocation
then i leave without a clue nor an explanation
it’s the mister hip hop, b-boy, rap addict
static, you don’t want, cause when i brings it, it get tragic
f-ggot, now put an h on your chest and handle
whatever comes at ya, best beleive i’ma gat ya
now move back from this jack, you can’t touch it
cause if you do, you catch a buck 50 muggin
i’m thuggish, with enough stamina to damage ya
crew, plus jerk em like a crooked -ss manager
corrupt indeed, my mind is the backbone of evil
causin me to to hurt innocent people
n-ggas playin hard rocks on the wrong block
thinkin it be you until i let the nine glock
pa-pop, my man sh-tted all in his pants
it’s the same old song and dance
and i’m out motherf-ckers!

- shyheim

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