[Verse: Kool Mitch]
Never had much, a sleepy eyed nigga on the back of the bus
Yeah it's tracks that I bust and this cash is a must
When you livin' in a system, that be trickin' up ya wisdom like they blasted my son
Damn shit is tough but to let it go is simply foolish
Can't let small time affairs push you into them ruins
Stakin' claims on our destiny is what we pursuin'
So we get together like soul train and keep it movin'
Now people it's the don Mitchie Primo the single hottest Negro in Los Stados Unidos
Sippin' Jarritos while steady slayin' gambinos
You cheaters claiming you leaders when you sweeter than Tampico
Fatlip bandito, Spittin' that forty below
Pipin' the finest dime that's residin' up out in Rio
Shit, getting love from Latinos, Negros, and Gringos
Finna be livin' large, stackin' green, no Ceelo
Peep the steeze I breeze thru like on fast foward
But quick to hit a nigga like a Shaq attack on the backboard
Then monkey flip em with the funky rhythm
Y'all quick draws is finna withdraw like when a junkies kickin
Heron on the needle that's my spit equivalent
Sick as cynical syphilis, riddlin' thru ya system quick
The sinister minister finisher killlin' off ignorance
Nuff said, that bloodshed is what you'll be dealin' with
Unique nigga they don't make them like me
Nice dark skinned nigga don't take me lightly
Face the mic b and all slates get wiped clean
Get ya act clean like basic hygiene
Paced at right speed, Y'all lames is hypebeast
Get shaked and quaked and erased by my team
Fakes get sidescreened with yo basic rhyme schemes
Niggas prancin' and dancin' while I'm chasin' my dream
Hear the thunderins' comin' and you can bet he back
Ain't a damn thang in the world that's gon' set eem back
I don't fuck with you niggas and yo petty acts
I'm comin at you faggots like Pacquiao on the heavy bag
Or I'll strike em like Zab Judah
Set fire to Pryors and aspire to stack mula
You liars wired tryna spit fire I'm that coolah
Praises raised high to the sky divine ruler
[Hook: Kool Mitch]
Is it real son, is it really real son
Let me know it's real son, if it's really real
Something I could feel son, load it up and kill one
Want it raw deal son, if it's really real
Never had much, a sleepy eyed nigga on the back of the bus
Yeah it's tracks that I bust and this cash is a must
When you livin' in a system, that be trickin' up ya wisdom like they blasted my son
Damn shit is tough but to let it go is simply foolish
Can't let small time affairs push you into them ruins
Stakin' claims on our destiny is what we pursuin'
So we get together like soul train and keep it movin'
Now people it's the don Mitchie Primo the single hottest Negro in Los Stados Unidos
Sippin' Jarritos while steady slayin' gambinos
You cheaters claiming you leaders when you sweeter than Tampico
Fatlip bandito, Spittin' that forty below
Pipin' the finest dime that's residin' up out in Rio
Shit, getting love from Latinos, Negros, and Gringos
Finna be livin' large, stackin' green, no Ceelo
Peep the steeze I breeze thru like on fast foward
But quick to hit a nigga like a Shaq attack on the backboard
Then monkey flip em with the funky rhythm
Y'all quick draws is finna withdraw like when a junkies kickin
Heron on the needle that's my spit equivalent
Sick as cynical syphilis, riddlin' thru ya system quick
The sinister minister finisher killlin' off ignorance
Nuff said, that bloodshed is what you'll be dealin' with
Unique nigga they don't make them like me
Nice dark skinned nigga don't take me lightly
Face the mic b and all slates get wiped clean
Get ya act clean like basic hygiene
Paced at right speed, Y'all lames is hypebeast
Get shaked and quaked and erased by my team
Fakes get sidescreened with yo basic rhyme schemes
Niggas prancin' and dancin' while I'm chasin' my dream
Hear the thunderins' comin' and you can bet he back
Ain't a damn thang in the world that's gon' set eem back
I don't fuck with you niggas and yo petty acts
I'm comin at you faggots like Pacquiao on the heavy bag
Or I'll strike em like Zab Judah
Set fire to Pryors and aspire to stack mula
You liars wired tryna spit fire I'm that coolah
Praises raised high to the sky divine ruler
[Hook: Kool Mitch]
Is it real son, is it really real son
Let me know it's real son, if it's really real
Something I could feel son, load it up and kill one
Want it raw deal son, if it's really real
( Kool Mitch )
www.ChordsAZ.com