| Lyrics: | Dove-
Yo, I stay cousin to this, introducing Mr. Dave Banner
Scannin proper with my sight
muscle
This rap shit, is just my night hustle
My J-O's to stay fearin of my
G-O-D
Whether what may, meet me at the front door
See the pressure got a nigga knockin shit
off his desk
Cause of the stress I stack words make cats bruise they neck tissue
Stay
pertinent to the issues
Cut your tag too close, display these verses tight, virtuals
sort of
like we supposed to, pantyhose raps you run
Stay (?) like black folks some (?)
mostly fakin
it, to make it
Pos-
I play low-key til it's time for you to know me
Stir my lime
with light, drink it down slowly
Holy shit! Now look what I get
A whole string of party
people wanna run in my mix
In my world they wanna fit like melanin in a tit
Jam tight, they
ain't my fam alright? They ain't my people
Them niggaz screamin fam til they rank measure
equal
then vote, without leavin a note, and that was all she wrote
Arranged produced my
slang's obtuse
but some distort, tellin stories like Mother-the-Goose
My true fam's (??)
back since with Vince Mason
We'll draw on three, leave that body for the tracin
Ultimate
high, like them drugs you be lacin
Coulda stood next to me, at the top of the key
but you
had to play gutter, didn't want to climb
Now you find yourself talked about in my
rhyme
Dove-
While you fools claim corners, we gon' claim theories
Y'all some
stickball niggaz, we the World Series
Been here, just pleadin the same case
ever since we
spaced about '3 Feet'
Pinchin your ears, inchin for years
but you still stuck at the
mezzanine and
we at the penthouse level with the same old rugs
same old tubs, same old
tables and same fa |
