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letra de land of lords - the underachievers

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[verse 1: ak]
raised in flatbush, born in brooklyn
the beast coast with us, catch ghost when flow stutters
like cobras, soul lift, i strode the block no chauffeur
coast to coast the same sh-t, i’m that focused
hold up, brooklyn they say fronto that’s how we roll up
f-ck you dumbos tryna blunt smoke with no funds
throw on aroma, sour diesel, higher than my ego
she know, hold a b-tch closer than my pesos, you lay ho
bank rolls be my occupation for the moment
elevated, overthrow the government, you know we on it
higher minds, fire burning, i don’t care what you concern with lsd
on the dv, check the kd floating
i know you peep the st–z, golden like i’m chosen
js leave ’em z way before the barclay center open
you hoping, i crash this plane, never man
i’m in the legendary lane, hitting jane like tarzan

[verse 2: issa dash]
pick it up where my brother left it off
purple drunk, sour diesel be the fuel for all my brooklyn lords
(brooklyn lords, theres no control, you n-ggas lame, i’m going hard)
living large, watch out for coppers, you know they makin’ noise
flatbush grown, raised around shottas
we rastafari boys, jah jah knows, been out the matrix since like a snotty nose
switching flows like a brooklyn n-gga only supposed to though
i count my pesos, i let my brain grow
watch out for my angels, cuz they stealin’ my halo, know they hate though
it’s cause we clean on the block, living dreams on the clock
keep the weed ’round my team, so we lean in the spot
the beast coast we better than most folks
and no hope for n-ggas that be testing our brain growth, you get smoked
like my herbal shuttles, run to be the sun child
can’t walk a mile in my shoes cause we run that brookline
you get it? we bringing change, motherf-ck your gain fame
i don’t need your d-mn approval, gotta claim my name
you n-ggas f-cking shooters, we the matches of this game
so take a seat n-gga, and let a god teach n-gga
don’t wanna pro preach with you, but watch out for soul k!llers
elevate your mind, and don’t listen to no sinners

[verse 3: ak]
no sinners, no friend of me
spray em, they all enemies, sight
i grip your life, don’t get the grip, just fist fight
knuckle up, f-ck happen’ and scr-ppin’
n-ggas ain’t tough enough for the bust a slug
then show a brother love, that’s why you can’t f-ck with us
ah, i remember them hoop dreams
thought i was the one like high king
jump shot me, ’til a n-gga hit a pot steam
then a n-gga drop rock like a fiend
that two train, till the last stop that man block
man shots, 10 pun the way to the pop-pop what the blood clot?
(hey, tan boys, world’s fair, zombies, pro era, a$ap
new york, new york, that’s where it’s at, where it’s at)

[verse 4: issa dash]
we the new new york, better protect your neck
when you’re looking at the god, take another step back
cause we soaring, while n-ggas just boring, see me touring
a n-gga been chosen to elevate most men, ’til we golden
and count my cheddar, that’s of course
cause my b-tch she wants a horse
but i mind just say for f-ck it and go cop that sh-t call porsche
my mama want a crib, i said my motherf-cker called
you raised a f-ckin’ demon child, really paid the cost
the cause is paid, ’til we said squeeze lemonades
flatbush, brooklyn, where the f-ck i’m gonna stay?
and i be chillin’ with my villains climbin’ on the f-ckin millions
and blowin on the loud ’til a n-gga touch the ceiling, uh huh

[outro]
that’s the end of the song, and n-gga know me can do no wrong
bodying tracks, your b-tch in the back of the cadillac, now you know all this sh-t

[produced by taleil brown]

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