Na na na na na
|
Na na na na na uuu uuu
|
Na na na na na
|
Na na na na na uuu uuu
|
Na na na na na
|
Na na na na na uuu uuu
|
And all my niggas say
|
Na na na na na
|
Na na na na na uuu uuu
|
|
And I'm live from the streets
|
'73 Caprice with the alligator seats
|
Alpine beats beat the block up all night
|
Wood grain a good thing, we riding all types
|
Chevy's alright, blue pin stripe
|
All American me, patriotic when I ride
|
Bulletproof outside for you monks that starve
|
I got something for death wishers wishing that I
|
Ease up for a minute
|
Man I'm pushing city limits, no recruising, I didn't did it
|
Spend straight to the top
|
Made a couple benz
|
Now it's time to hit the block and bring my niggas out to shop
|
All new fabrics, Jordan's automatic
|
Couple gold chains, couple 4-4matics
|
Keeps a nigger one static
|
We lie about milk city G's, we are savage
|
Came from the basements and the attics
|
Jump shot the serve rock
|
Beat the average line state of a young black male
|
The trap's so small but we trap so well
|
Spend it all at once and make it back so well
|
The circle of this how they say heaven's beyond these gates
|
I swear I see heaven every time I enter the place
|
It's the faith I have in change
|
But it always stays the same as I ride around in vane
|
And they say
|
|
Na na na na na
|
Na na na na na uuu uuu
|
And we smoking on that
|
Na na na na na
|
Na na na na na (got me feeling like) uuu (that feeling's like) uuu
|
|
I got my dog shades on
|
Blocking out these trobe lights
|
Eyes blood shot, I've been sippin' all night
|
On my 7 jay paper's all white
|
I'm so distant from the star type
|
The ones them self of music
|
Insanity is drilling me so the drugs I use it
|
To flow away from this bullshit, abuse it
|
Tryna escape the bull pit, that same old blueprint
|
But ten friends fake women the whole niners groolish
|
Nightmares in night is
|
Slight glance from Chevy chairs
|
Heavy is making hard to breathe
|
The money's so fast so it makes your heart believe
|
Temptation in the entertainment, all for the love of being famous
|
The cool ones end up being the lamest
|
So rappers I spoke to became the strangers
|
And nameless, brainless, faceless, forgotten
|
Were sitting at the top now they falling to the bottom
|
Now they crawl around me, watching my every move cause I'm the next king
|
Gracious and militant, Martin Luther's dream
|
Peeked the whole scene through the lends of Malcolm Little
|
Ready for the revolution, same riffle, same window
|
Man, what'd I get myself into?
|
What'd I get myself into? [x2]
|
|
Na na na na na
|
Na na na na na uuu uuu
|
Na na na na na
|
Na na na na na uuu uuu
|
|
-----------------
|
Live At Blossom
|
| Stalley |
