Informazioni sulla canzone In questa pagina puoi trovare il testo della canzone Neil Armstrong, artista - Proof. Data di rilascio: 31.10.2022
Limiti di età: 18+
Linguaggio delle canzoni: inglese
Neil Armstrong |
| Ayo, this motherfucker’s taking the fun out of rap |
| Imma do what I wanna do, fuck it |
| That don’t even count no more, commercialism |
| To do yourself no more |
| But fuck it, know what I’m sayin' |
| Imma do me, ya know I’m sayin' |
| I don’t need the billboards |
| Nah, not at all |
| Better watch for me, people gon' find me where I be at |
| The other one (Derty Harry, Big Proof) |
| Spit flames, nicknames, Derty Harry |
| Big fame, twists brains, very scary |
| Hood nigga, hits better, better than y’all |
| Run up, get gunned up for your cheddar and all |
| Rob dealaz, pop kilos, coco flo-ur |
| No broth, throw a ripe hook like Biboa |
| Butt me, touch me die on the mac |
| Turn your mike upply, lying on your back |
| Black jews, tattoos, that attack you |
| Stand raw |
| Rob your Grandma at a raffle |
| She’a lie like hindsight, I want more |
| Crime write when I rhyme right, it’s all raw |
| Fuck naw, hate pop, gimme my plaque |
| Bust jaws, wait stop, it’s plenty whack |
| Niggas with cells, so they sell in their cells |
| Melons are swell |
| Oh well, I’ll see you in Hell |
| Space Odyssey! |
| I don’t know what you’ve been told |
| Cross over, rappers hit me, oh! |
| My beliefs will never fold |
| I will not sell my soul (x2) |
| Hip hop out |
| Drop out, no school |
| In fascinations and lacerations, assassinations |
| Threw, broke two |
| So cool, D12, we shall bank on y’all |
| No gold for rappin', man, platinum hang on walls |
| Ain’t no bitch in me |
| You empty one clip, I empty three |
| Pop more than MTV |
| Lay a beat down, without an MPC |
| Them killaz in ya face, they were sent by me |
| No sympathy, tell ya kids, in ya face, it was meant to be |
| Big Proof, spit truth, never a lie |
| No individual get loose, better than I |
| Forever we high |
| Sly, but we never slurrin' my words |
| Occur in the nerves |
| I’m high? Fine |
| Bionic Super-Trooper with stamina |
| My antennas sense pussy in my parameter |
| The Janitor |
| I clean houses, in the meanwhile |
| Ain’t nuttin' but dope in here |
| Like a fiend’s mouth |
| Space Odyssey |
| Pimpness, bitch, press, stage an' all |
| Glock fetish, hot-headed, throw a rage and brawl |
| Like Asian broad, y’all sucky sucky |
| My skills nocturnal, they super ugly |
| Y’all are fictional, I spit the real |
| I’m difficult |
| The White Sniff Inhale |
| Thug creature, teacher |
| Fill you with rap |
| Send rocks with my palm, nigga |
| And just mail you a slap |
| Smack! You won’t listen, no joke |
| Please say that ain’t roll 'fore your heart get broke |
| Shroom music, humour’s Chasm’s and Proof’s |
| 2 minutes and you finished, Mr. God-in-the-Booth |
| Lies to the youth, and just lies to the use |
| Fuck the truth, pass the boo |
| I’m tryna get high wit' you |
| I’ll tell anyone before you got the gun n' draw |
| Y’all kill me cause rap ain’t fun no more |
| Space Odyssey |