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letra de talented tenth - zenden lavon

[intro: 600hurts]
aye yo z it’s your boy 600, n-gga
wanted to let you know i’m f-cking with the sh-t you’ve been talking, yo
you keep talking your sh-t!
let these people know what’s up, let these hoes know what’s up, let your hair down on these hoes
let that gold drip, let these n-ggas see it
we gods up in this b-tch this sh-t ain’t just no talk, n-gga this real sh-t
aight? keep putting on for the city, one love, 600

[verse 1: zenden lavon]
‘fore i close my third eye, know why palms closed time slows
my foes reach out with their bare hands i square dance ’round b-tch n-ggas’ vanity
real sh-t, i’ve got a red dot likе deadshot i come with advanced id namеtag got reach
hear yall tip, tiptoe real slow sh-t’s cat, i mean
all my dogs go hard, we just send postcard, place hold lands i reach
tough, my n-gga
talk ‘dem talk jah call ya bluff, my n-gga
tone too bitter
sugar cane class this way i trust my n-gga
chest got diamond glare light (glare light)
this ain’t what you feel like (feel like)
ok ok ok (ok)
let’s see how you heal like (gunshots)

[chorus: zenden lavon]
doubled up my vision, loved the ones i’m taught by
n-ggas been too timid, i done let it roll by
can i get a witness? double up my chrome like “f-ck estranged ballistics
all them slugs them say “hi”
let ’em all pay visit, peace first then it’s vicious, i meant it!
[verse 2: zenden lavon]

way too impatient but waiting in plethoras
aim while these crackers try snaking my blessings up
semi supportive, surprised, like i ain’t know their lies been presented like gifts to our retinas
piggies in blue feeling no consequences
for k!lling and murder while my brothers getting a 25 year to life what they sentence us
b-tch i oughta put a hole in you’re skeleton
b-tch i oughta let ’em know we ain’t letting up
thunder, call my odinson f-cking tear it up
this is power, this endowed from the heavens up
guarantee you look at me like you look at suns
pardon me but this a king in your presence, son
all these whispers talking sh-t need an enema
mansa musas f-ckin soul in this penning, yeah
mansa musa all this gold on my cranium

[outro: zenden lavon]
i don’t live facades i’m living pure
hustle ain’t no drawl my bag secure
ah, feel the herb i foster in them woods
can’t even see no bottom

- zenden lavon

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