Tytuł: Yada, Yada, Yada
- Wykonawca: Tech N9ne
- Wy¶wietleń: 249
Just think, what if I could just, just blink this shit away.
Niggas think, because a nigga bust, I got grips and grips of pay.
The pain grows in fame and kangols with change
And strange hos who bang in range roves for thangs,
Same shows with lames the rain woes will stain insane
Foes who drain and hang bros with brains
If you caught it that means you got it, and if you brought it,
That means you should've shot it cause I'm about ta, drop
The real ya need a lot to kill a leader, prop the
nina nigga or pop the milli meter
Demarco I'm bout to spark flow your bark so harsh
But parts gon make you heart blow, blood
And don't be wassin' me cuzzin' me buggin me bout dubs
I'll be mud till these clubs really lovin me
It hurts my nigga to hurt my nigga but hurt
My nigga is what's inspiring these spurts my nigga
At first my nigga, used to be my homey, used to
Be my ace, yellin' you gon slap the taste out my mouth
Nigga I never scare sebwafares everywhere,
If you need me believe me its easy, to put holes in
Shakra teasy watch the wezzy he's lots of talk
4 sheezy
[Chorus]
Some say I should worry and watch where I walk (yeah)
Yada, yada, yada
Nigga that's just talk
I'm a friend, if I was a foe I would be knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, knockin at yo front door
[Repeat 2x]
[Verse 2]
The industries faulty industry salty (man)
The industry cost me industry brought me (pain)
The industry taught me industry caught me (strange)
And you niggas know that the industries awfully (bane)
I ain't a snake nigga all I did is make niggas
Money was sunny now it's funny you playa hate
Niggas, over some cake the fate of a show me state
Nigga in my face will be Don Juan the great 2 late nigga.
I don't speak a lot I peep a lot I creep a lot
And people who speak are usually weak and out 4
Peace and no beef a lot remember we used
2 kick it like bros now you niggas act
like bitches and hos
Wit your licorice souls,
Tecca9 I got the wickedest flows
No kid in his mold on misery
Never will get wit this rogue, I'm pissed
At his whole little fisad of crip that is sold
Instead of a rap I should've twisted his nose
Who kept short nitty from killin you me, who
Kept Dyamund from drillin' you me
Who kept villain niggas from vill dealin' you me,
So now you can take away me and keep on talking
Crazy and Imma let em know where you
Keep yo baby and where you stay D.
[Chorus]
[Repeat 2x]
[3rd Verse]
You can't turn enough mutha fuckers against me
You can't find a harder rapper that'll convince me
I'm wit the Canty's the Ashby's the Whitebears
LeJeunes the Harrises and the mutha fuchkin Timley's
The Theorys the Byers the canadys you know the
Familys that are known to be bad 4 humanity
Can he be bad, can he be tough can he be
Rough no cream puffs are considered to be rough enough
Nobody likes you not even yo bitches imma
Witness they sick of yo disrespectful way of speaking
explicit always talking about how big yo dick is,
better hope Anghellic, go multi platinum to get your riches
Blood, this is the end of men who were once friends
And then, one asshole thought he was somithin when
Punks bend over they get fucked (get fucked) hand over
Them Tech tapes or get stuck (get stuck)
You must think I'm soft 4 talkin to Icy Roc
Bout knockin the nina out I'm trippin without
A doubt, Imma tell you who really is ya friends,
Vell Barkardi and maybe you and him can get
Together and tell it like it is again
Its over man, I hope you brought ya navacane
I know the pain, is slowly taking over brain.
So calm that mutha fuckin wombat I don't
Need no Don Juan tracks to come bomb on raps.
[Chorus]
[Repeat 2x]
