(feat. Res) Yo, when the bass thump, the place jump Like it's way crunk, yeah, Fake punks get they face lumped Sent to the most high, by the most fit You gotta do, fuck that almost shit The fam is close knit You diggin', know the clock don't stop tickin' Glocks still spittin', the whole block politickin' Lik epresidents with they minds dead on arrival Leaving no evidence of a struggle for survival Songs relevant to the times like the psalms read in the Bible Stepping to this leaves thoughts in your head 'it's suicidal' It's the T to the A-L-I-B the deep rooter Rolling with my wanna battle cats who chief buddha And see through the overspecialized, underpressurized No lie texturized, emcees who got the masses mesmerized with empty rhetoric, they better quit Niggas so hollow that they echo like sentiments Nowadays rap artists coming half-hearted Commercial like pop, or underground like black markets Where were you the day hip-hop died? Is it too early to mourn? Is it too late to ride? [x6] Kwa is chillin', Tone is chillin' What more can I say, we stay building And make killings Take children through the wilderness, by the hand It's a great feeling, show 'em how to be a man Exactly, pack trees in my khakis My sound fat like a Neve while you thin like a Mackey C'mon, shine so bright when I walk by You got ta squint like the motherfucking sun in your eye What! Say somethin, you stay frontin It ain't nothing, let off like I'm big game hunting Me and Tek stay way blunted Wave running on beaches with white sand With a slight tan Smack the mic stand with my right hand When I'm excited Leave you so far in the dust that you forced to bite it On fire like property lost to riots Yo, ain't no stopping us when we all united [Chorus]
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(feat. Res) Yo, when the bass thump, the place jump Like it's way crunk, yeah, Fake punks get they face lumped Sent to the most high, by the most fit You gotta do, fuck that almost shit The fam is close knit You diggin', know the clock don't stop tickin' Glocks still spittin', the whole block politickin' Lik epresidents with they minds dead on arrival Leaving no evidence of a struggle for survival Songs relevant to the times like the psalms read in the Bible Stepping to this leaves thoughts in your head 'it's suicidal' It's the T to the A-L-I-B the deep rooter Rolling with my wanna battle cats who chief buddha And see through the overspecialized, underpressurized No lie texturized, emcees who got the masses mesmerized with empty rhetoric, they better quit Niggas so hollow that they echo like sentiments Nowadays rap artists coming half-hearted Commercial like pop, or underground like black markets Where were you the day hip-hop died? Is it too early to mourn? Is it too late to ride? [x6] Kwa is chillin', Tone is chillin' What more can I say, we stay building And make killings Take children through the wilderness, by the hand It's a great feeling, show 'em how to be a man Exactly, pack trees in my khakis My sound fat like a Neve while you thin like a Mackey C'mon, shine so bright when I walk by You got ta squint like the motherfucking sun in your eye What! Say somethin, you stay frontin It ain't nothing, let off like I'm big game hunting Me and Tek stay way blunted Wave running on beaches with white sand With a slight tan Smack the mic stand with my right hand When I'm excited Leave you so far in the dust that you forced to bite it On fire like property lost to riots Yo, ain't no stopping us when we all united [Chorus]
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