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7L & Esoteric f/ Rise - Текст песни Grace of Gods
Hey hey what we gon' do is we gon' get the DJ
to give us a few jigga jiggas
So we can get this shit on the road
and get it started, know what I'm sayin?
Yo, rise, 7L, Esoteric, Demigods 1-2, Axis
(I got this)
What you want?
[Esoteric]
You pack chrome I doubt it
I rip out your frame and make no bones about it
ES, shout it, my style slams dark
My rhymes start to combine like dry humps and hand jobs
You need a fade that's a blowout jack
You get MJ on broadway and couldnt stay to come back
Our rags pricy like a reesey Gs
While the twelfth collect dust like pcp fiends
I see through teens like X-ray machines
The smart dads take they kids evil schemes
(You know all these motherfuckers)
My man will disgrace y'all
With y'all threaten marriage and the fantasy baseball
Who's gonna sign me?
Underground rapper got the game down pat like you in the rally
Ready to die like an airline jacker
Crush your skull give you a hairline fracture
I got hotties on the back burna
They won't go away like bodies on the back burna
Did you rhyme? I'd rather people mime7L & Esoteric f/ Rise - Grace of Gods - http://ru.motolyrics.com/7l-and-esoteric-f-rise/grace-of-gods-lyrics.html
Keep your feeble mind got less lines and equal signs
[Chorus]
no doubt you don't know what it's about
I don't mean to boast but damn if I'm grey
Won't get it on
I'm not a biter I'm a writer for myself and others
no doubt you don't know what it's about
I don't mean to boast but damn if I'm grey
Every line that I recite I consider it art
[Rise]
Ready before the sound checks, before the "You next on's"
A crew this strong, mics that we use get bronze
It's a rapper writin a critic and artist to business
To clan that's all the shit makes you want opinions we give it, dig it
If you get too deep for real when you rock
And the attention levels drop when people look at they watch
Wait against money, on a balance scale time flies
Your mind's controlled by presidents that aren't even alive
Old dogs learn new tricks they can spit on our class
I teach an ol' pit to flip and saw a rapper in half
The last rapper stop beefin' and he showed to the man
Now they beefin' just to see who's our number one fan
Compressed to the glance, people keep my world on enter
The he's and she's and every species in placenta
Heat rises warm up the crib, prayin in cold rubber
The baby stop cryin' and the plants grow better
[Chorus]