U-God - Journey - Tekst piosenki, lyrics - teksciki.pl

23.07.2013

30

Rap

Tekst piosenki
[Verse 1: U-God] When it comes to this rap shit, not a stranger Not Cedric, but I’m a Entertainer Game changer, none can match it I’m a Master, I throw on the green jacket Takes practice, just to blaze mics I’m in the best shape of my life In fights with God vs. Devil I’mma beat them charges, I’m the hardest rebel I’m beyond your level, I’m stone and grit Sit back, let me Quincy Jones this shit Blown to bits, this is my territory My biography’s an amazing story Of blood and streets, love and deceit Slugs and heat, let the dog off the leash I’m a free MC, not DMC No contracts, contact TMZ [Hook: U-God] Here I go (I’m the talk of the town, talk, talk of the town) I’m on my way (I’m the talk of the town, talk, talk of the town) Here I go (I’m the talk of the town, talk, talk of the town) I’m on my way (I’m the talk of the town, talk, talk of the town) [Verse 2: Kool Keith] Tour bus, Orca, big shark walker Man with the ammo, ya’ll bring the grand piano Fitted hat on, superfly, walk around Shoot around your town like Hawaii Five-Oh Oprah come out your projects, I’m down with The Sopranos While I’m stealin’ em, head so big like balloon helium Guns with body suits, energize off poets See the king of kings, I manage Floyd Mayweather now Come up to the condeminium And shake hands with the new millennium Larry and Armstrong insurance, me and U-God Any rapper come up, better speak to the doorman Throwing rice on the city, out the Carolina box Captain hat, finger popping your lady with the Air Nike shots Heavyweight, dumped around my waist, I took it years ago from John Tate [Hook] [Verse 3: U-God] Rap hall of fame, ya’ll mention me Got more bars then a penetentiary In the next century, you gonna see my spark My rap IQ is right off the charts Go and front, go ahead plot You got the biggest gun don’t mean you can’t get shot Check my slot, check my melody You can’t beat me, I’m the champ of this melody Speaking felonies, that’s where I’m drivin Golden Arms venom, baggy jeans denim Enemies, yo, I dodge for a living And all these women, gotta stay ahead of ya Ya’ll want ballers, the hell with the regular Yeah, yeah, whatever, kid, gotta keep your head sharp Mind on the run, ya’ll got a head start Ya’ll know the repertoire, fingers on the triggers We the toughest niggas in the yard [Hook]
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