[Eightball]
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Okay; comin' from the top of my
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Dome when I'm droppin' my
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Own type of style, and
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Ain't nobody stoppin' my
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Rise to the very top
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Hit 'em up wit' all I got
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Superstar; no I'm not
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Green weed; black glock
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Everybody want a piece
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Dirty like a pair 'a cleats
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Niggers run their mouth a lot
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Like bitches and parakeets
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(whoa) How you love that pimpin'
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(whoa) I'm so cold wit' it
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(whoa) Make all the boys wanna do it just because I did it
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I'm like a legend or
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Some kind of prophecy
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Sent here to set you free
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Dress, player, follow me
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Into another world
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Deep inside your own soul
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This shit here way bigger than tattoos and cornrolls
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This not 'bout makin' dough
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Not 'bout no fakin' yo
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Not 'bout who's rich 'o po'
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Not 'bout who niggaz know
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This here 'bout you and me
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This here 'bout poetry
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This here 'bout who we be
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If you in here with me
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[Chorus]
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Keep your ears wide open
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This is all grill no jokin'
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Throw your motherfuckin' hands up in the air
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If you feel me throw your hands up in the air
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Better keep your ears open
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This is all grill no boastin'
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Throw your hands up in the motherfuckin' air
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If you feel me throw your hands up in the air
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The motherfuckin' aaaaair
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[Eightball]
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Nigga you don't know me
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Why you niggaz wanna beef?
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All in my grill like
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You the papparazzi
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Boy I was fulla game
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Way before this rap thang
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Real 'fore the money came
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That's why I will never change
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Me - ain't nobody like
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Even though they try to be
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Niggaz think they are but they ain't fuckin' with me lyric'ly
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(Yo) I was born wit' it
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Din't nobody teach it to me
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Over hot beef
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Tell you 'bout what the streets did to me
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(Yo) Chose me to be a
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Prophet and lead my people
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Murder non-believers
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With lyrics that are lethal
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I hit 'em heavy with it
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Yo I stay ready wit' it
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Come try to test me wit' it
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Regret you ever did
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Call who a pimp and
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I got my own back
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You got them baby paper?
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I got them grown stacks
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But this ain't 'bout no bread
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Not 'bout what niggaz said
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Not 'bout what hoes believe
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If you in here with me
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|
[Chorus]
|
Keep your ears wide open
|
This is all grill no jokin'
|
Throw your motherfuckin' hands up in the air
|
If you feel me throw your hands up in the air
|
Better keep your ears open
|
This is all grill no boastin'
|
Throw your hands up in the motherfuckin' air
|
If you feel me throw your hands up in the air
|
The motherfuckin' aaaaair
|
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[Eightball]
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Yeah I gotta come again
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Just to let you know the deal
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Eight ways to company
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Beats come from doin' real (yeah)
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We the niggaz should not nobody be fuckin wit'
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Slayer riders Chopper city
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Had you bitches doubled quick
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This ain't 'bout who rap the best
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This ain't 'bout who got the most
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This is not no gangsta rap
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This ain't 'bout no pimps and hoes
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This here ain't no country shit
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Ain't no way to label this
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Memphis where I come from
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Orange mile veteran
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What I represent - whoever live in poverty
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Hard working niggaz that
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Try to hustle honestly
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And I represent who
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Lookin' good and feelin' nice
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Niggaz on there drinkin' 'dro
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Fresh clothes; full of ice
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(Yeah) We gon' keep this slummin' comin' with the dirtiest
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(Yeah) If you from the gutter then I know you heard of this
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This ain't bout where you from
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This ain't bout where you be
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This here 'bout feelin free
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If you in here with me
|
|
[Chorus]
|
Keep your ears wide open
|
This is all grill no jokin'
|
Throw your motherfuckin' hands up in the air
|
If you feel me throw your hands up in the air
|
Better keep your ears open
|
This is all grill no boastin'
|
Throw your hands up in the motherfuckin' air
|
If you feel me throw your hands up in the air
|
The motherfuckin' aaaaair
|
|
[Eightball]
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Go 'head and put 'em up
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Put your hands where I can see 'em
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Put your hands where I can see 'em
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Go 'head and put 'em up
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Put your hands where I can see 'em
|
Put your hands where I can see 'em
|
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[unknown voice talking]
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Yeah, eight ways, doo-rilla
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Code line
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Slab two is goin' down baby
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This your boy Milwaukee
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Stop prayin'
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-----------------
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Hands In The Air
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8Ball & MJG |