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letra de t.w.i.m.c - turk

the vision 2020, i swear none of these n-ggas is ready // don’t hit my line if we ain’t talking about fetty // it ain’t many that do it better, i dare a n-gga to try me// they’re debating who’s the greatest, can’t help but think that i might be // the game in limbo, bar low, i had to lift it// i’m gifted, it ain’t box big enough for me to fit in // the bad guy back with a fully loaded gun clip// i guess it’s up to me to remind ‘em who really run sh-t, look // label me a villain, it’s fine // poke a sleeping bear be aware that it’ll wake within time // forget k!lling ‘em kindness, i’d rather they die horrible death // every line’s like a needle used to administer meth, yes // that’s pretty sharp ain’t it// let ‘em tell it and they might say that my image is tainted // all because i kept it real, never been one for the fake sh-t // those who say that you changed are same ones that’ll shapeshift // all facts, i see the hate in they eyes // seen bridges burn from a far as i sever these ties // kick the chair from beneath and watch ‘em hang from they lies // been set ablaze, but like a phoenix i rise // still, fallen ashes from the blunt make it bearable // the boy who cried wolf is really more than a parable // sat across tables where only fables were spoken // never the top pick, but i always felt i was chosen // i feel i’m better than ya’ll // never been a trending topic or the one they applaud // is it a flaw, i know they wonder he be so f-cking confident // f-ck a compliment, i’m focused on goals i’m accomplishing // told em imma pop my sh-t, always had a pot to p-ss // used to be a optimist, no f-cks that i got to give // who the best from the l, i that think i should top the list // but every time they bring the topic up, somehow they rob the kidd // rappers in my city don’t inspire me // a few tried, but none could ever retire me// every effort made has fallen flat on its face // instead it fuels the fire in these lines that i lace // now say grace, for beats that i dearly departed // most valuable on the mic, i’m lyrically james harden // check the score board, i put up numbers on the daily// with no -ssist, not one n-gga could say that he made me // but it’s a few that started rhyming because of me // i got a couple of apples that have fallen right from the tree // although they never admit it // i know that deep down inside that they feel it // been my brothers keeper, but n-ggas turn you to nino // i refused to be a mitch, got rid of all the rico’s // circle so small it d-mn near look like a dot // he ain’t ya mans if he let you bleed alone in own ya spot // maybe i’m bitter ‘cause i’m owed a bit of paper // lesson learned, f-ck feelings and f-ck favors // pity the fallen, they gone need a helping hand // we no longer relate, refrain from calling me fam // never dumbing it down in exchange for the poker chips // i blame the fans for hyping the mediocre sh-t // someone had say it, got me playing devil’s advocate // promoters bending over, they love give you they -ss to kiss // find me bumping pitso ramakhula // ‘cause ya’ll been whack like that n-gga named duna // style watered down like mixing milk and amarula // only smoking the finest like kobi or even kunta

- turk

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