Testi Da Vorzon - Blastah beatz, Cappadonna, Lounge Lo

Da Vorzon

I came up from a tough time, now I’m finally back
I got love in my heart and I changed my rap
I don’t worry about dudes talk behind my back
Because I’m good with the music and I love the track
It’s me, it’s big Don and I’m so full of life
Still praying for the day that God give me a mic
I pray each and every day and I pray at night
I got music in my soul and I love to write
While brothers kick dirt on name, just for spite
I do what God tell me to do, shine my light
Ya’ll suffer for mad years, been beat wit many stripes
I know what the ghetto like, tears cover my face to the sample of the pain
I inherited the streets like crack cocaine
All the while, yo I kept surviving it, money
Stand away from the knucklehead niggas and dummies
And still mama love me back
And I ain’t perfect, but I was blessed wit a good heart
I know how to work it, face it
Most of ya’ll gon' die over money
While I’m laid back chilling, where it’s nice and sunny
Now check it, I ain’t the type to hang with the crowd
You might see me at the spot where the music is loud
Classic R&B, a little jazz, spoken word
Posted on the sideline wit a crazy bird
Trying to take my mind off of the herb
I sip fine wine, when I was young, I used to do mad crime
Now daddy’s all grown up, yo, and time is precious
I reflect back on my seeds and all of my records
Feed my family with this shit, they gotta respect it
You gotta love me or leave me alone, there’s no half stepping
I grew up and I found out, the mind is a powerful weapon, and love is the
message
So ya’ll can stop fronting on me, you too far in the game
For ya’ll to keep stunting on me, Cappadonna the first fruit
Straight outta God mansion, never stuck in '86, I deal wit enhancement
Brothers make music and they steal my advancements
Cock suckers sit in a circle, watch me rap
Ya’ll niggas don’t owe me shit, but I’mma pay ya’ll back
To all my real niggas, this is real hip hop
And my niggas locked up, that sell that crack
Get ya mind right, get this track
To all my niggas that bust they gat, nigga, brat-brat-brat
I said the last time I stepped in the booth, I had the deuce wit me
Told niggas, send the shit down, because he shoots wit me
I’m in the building where them niggas, they pump hard
And give money, if cops come, yeah, and they run hard
Right where the stash at, yeah, I’mma blast back
I’m so old school, dope bomb in my ass crack
I left the past and the present, I’m past that
I told you my publishing is sitting on ASCAP
Fuck you, boy, take a walk and go ask Cap
And I be lingering, just where the cars be
And doing my numbers at a show where the stars be
Representing my hood, the good boogah get burnt out
And bitches called Sugar get turned out
Bring your hammer, the finger blam like Yosemite Sam
And if I can’t get you, my Stone’ll give me your man