18
Rap
Tekst piosenki
Intro -
Whoo! yo, uh... 1 & then the 2,(2) 2 & then the 3
3 & to the 4, then you gotta
[Verse 1]
Eh Dawg, you wanna sign me son, thats all good news
Coz I ain't from the hood dude, makin crook moves
Im from the burbs like I should, bouncin' crude tunes
& all my crew cruise around in them new coupe's, ooh!)
Im out raw, ain't no-body do it like I did it
Takin' it 'round the world, & im just havin' fun wit it
Passin' the test, im the last of the fresh
Its No-TiOn m-p-3, been captured at best!
You gotta BreathE!, coz you never comin close to the steez
Snatchin air from ya lungs, you got a hell of a weez
Homie Please!, yall faggots can't smoke like I do
You coughin at the hospital, ya hand's on a bible
& dont we say, the game we play, is deadly & foul
Just wait til, I hit-ya-wit-a-bit-of adrenaline now, punk
Breathe!, now why you gotta stab me in the dark
Cos I got all colours invitied, like im Stanely park, im sharp!
(Breathe!), in the coldest winter's your breathin' is freezin'
Then NoTiOn come along & give you a good enough reason, to..
(Breathe!), feel that clutch, deep in ya chest
Sense the arrest, take a breath, we the last ones left
We never leave!, thats right boy, on top of the box
Throwin you a portion of sorted alluminum shots
Take it & "breathe, wit them stains of ya brains, on ya jeans
You better wash em clean, coz I got aim on ya team, boy!
(Breathe!)
1 & then the 2,(2) 2 & then the 3
3 & to the 4, then you gotta "breathe" x2
[Verse 2]
& some faggots gotta (breathe!), coz I run through, take care of my section
Your swift to catch a left hand, if ya ever disrespectin'
Your vein, coz you escaped the game, fakin ya death
Its nothing like an asthma attack, takin ya breath
Bitch (breathe), the feelin got ya weak to ya knees
Coz all the real heads, know that im the better emcee, believe it..!
(breathe), I had grab the beat, & yo I make it more fab-olous
Dude, thats what I do, makin' the crew's, more scand-alus
Coz yall mad at us, you ain't got no canabis
Won't listen to ya whinin' manager, boy is an act-ress
Come up to our door son, get ya rejected
Dial 1-800 No-TiOn, get ya connected
& me & Cee-For dawg, we better than friends
We better than them, we comin strong, & at it again
Come round wit 2 dozen tracks, a pad, & pen
Two of the wickedist lyricists, on a mission to win!
& then we (breathe), on the side walk, peepin a breather
Contemplatin' on how we can take this rap shit deeper
(breathe), snap up the fam', take the show on the road
Its NoTiOn & GMC, turning ametures to pro's, yo!
Define the flow now, in high def digi-tal, Oh!
You gotta a problem pal, we'll settle on the quarter mile
Your dumfounded how we boosted right past ya
I said you gotta let it breathe dawg, thats the answer, come on!(breathe)!
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