Co$$ (Cashus King) - Could It Be - Tekst piosenki, lyrics - teksciki.pl

31.10.2013

91

Rap

Tekst piosenki
[Intro: Co$$] Exercise your body, exorcise your mind Could it be? That nigga Co$$, and Royal B, plus my mufucka Sene Yeah Uh One two, one two, one two Yo [Verse 1: Co$$] Is all my dreaming in vain, is all of my plans of a crazy man Like all my scheming insane My people dying in Chiraq, my people dying in Gat-troit If you let the joy enlighten you, inspire you made a hi-hat Influence you and get it in the streets and you was with it You got caught, but you acquitted, then acquire liquid fire Wouldn't burn it you would spit it, they call you Cashus When it come to the battle they call you last up Most these dogs is frogs, and most these cats ducks they raps suck They dicks suck, they bitch sucks, they cliques suck, they fist up Get knocked out, I ain't top 5 in your top 10 then your list suck Get picked up on the (?) with my fist ball like the brawler got Like God giver, like God giver, damn if you ball or not Dope money in a ball of knot, and his pockets get them broads on jock (Call him out), in the sky, fallen clouds Streets cold, but bars is hot, not bars where they be drinking at But bars that come from thinking caps I'm more FDR, then Abe Lincoln rap Who liberated the slaves Whether he on the dime block or that nigga living in J's Whether he got a mansion, or his residence in a cave Nucca don't misbehave Cause Rosa Parks ain't march so your ass could be enraged Cause Marcus Garvey ain't march so your ass could be in a cage And Malcolm X ain't preach just so your ass could fuck 'em freaks Get a clue nigga, fuck what talking, what you do nigga Cause who you finna be is up to you nigga Who's the illest? [Hook: Co$$] Depends on your perspective (Could it be, could it be), Co$$ smoking green weed and Hennessy Drinking with my thinking cap, tilted to the side I'ma live forever, when I die, they'll bury me alive (Could it be, could it be), that green weed and Hennessy Turn the sky red and put that blood shot in my eye I'ma survive, and live it 'til the limit 'til I die I represent this realness, I give a fuck about who the illest (Could it be, could it be) [Verse 2: Blu] I don donned over the sky And all the blinds put they palm palms up in July Yo could it could that L-U, Jubilee on my side Spell truth like he spell is name, say he a lie Let him lay in the lot, with the lost and jealous With the last Angel yelling at the (?) on the prosperity Where no one here to share with, apparently No we pairing it uh, the USA blow out that Mary Jane Hear me out, before I air 'em out Each and everyday my ink surround some sound like an island We getting paid, West Coast to no West Coast Pacific Ocean floor, how long can you stare at the sun Before you overdose Rolling spokes, yo we rolling smokes, tell the poles We still posted tho, Cops, get of the cock, let the drops drop and boast blow We got the game locked, tell the game it ain't a thing bro, let it bang We on the same side, rain shine help flow, elbow grease Chub T's be my jell toes, all the hail the king Crown Rock, Royal Blu, Cash King, my nigga Sene, sound-off On your boy band groups, that ain't a thing Split a pair, I'm your worst nightmare squared They'res two more niggas, if you ain't mathematically aware You could jump threat, flinch, dare, swear double dare And I still slap the shit out your ass tryna' compare Who's the illest? [Hook] [Verse 3: Sene] Yeah small talks for the birds from birds flying Grilling cheese with the Mayans, so hood we feel inspired So good, you watch The Wire, the wire be watching us You tired, you like the guy with the iron who couldn't bust When he desired, fuck what you inspired to, you high Built this shit on air fans, while I was flying through crying It's nice, sipping' Dewar's on ice, like hell fire (?) when I can sip it, and God, shits delicious When it's purchased by a verse I was cursed with inner vision That my pops had, boy it makes my Pop's glad I did it I'm that mother fucking story that you heard when you was born About a boy who wrote a poem, tells you about a world that he crawled in I'm all, chips stack, bitch homies get bitch slapped If you call me you better get back up, or get backed up and catch whiplash I'm Brooklyn, fuck you talking about king boy, it's king Sene It's king B, it's king Troy, we been boys, y'all Blaxby My backstreet, I may sing a song about love But don't think I ain't where I'm from, or I ain't got some black gloves Or I ain't ready to do shit, cuz I ain't rolling with Bloods Or I ain't rolling with Crips, that I ain't rolling with thugs Who's the illest? [Hook] [Verse 4: Denmark Vessey] You know who it be, and if you don't then here's a thank you First they make you, then they hang you Then you die, and they cremate you Then they love you, then they praise you Did the same thing to Jesus, did they same thing you Horus Did the same thing to Pac (2Pac), everybody's got a cross up (?) I feel great, like I'm liked and am I from they family tree? If you can't see the forest, but sycomorus ficus Then you sleeping on some soul food, some rigamortis-itis Post swag, (?) I'm still in my loaders (?) (?) on the days with the counselor king (?) swallow the drink We toast the crown, we still here When in my long sun in my skin tone Flush blood, bone soul, gemstone, Jim Crow Not only do I 10-4, over-stand, 10-4 I looked the Devil straight in his eye, to the window of the soul Bullet hole in his temple, I lost my mind, tryna' find God knows, what I've been through, hard time It's the adaptation of life, taking a knife Cutting through the tension, thick in the air, breaking the ice I'm talking to you, finding my place, lost in the group Remind me how I gotten here Watching the grandfather clock mocking the rocking chair, back and forth (?) then I smack the palm Peace what up old friend, cold wind, below ten Small world in counters in the corners where the globe bends God's idle hands playing Jenga with Stonehenge Centuries old hemps, written in bold print Who the illest? [Hook]
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