[Intro]
Ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya. ya, yo
One time it's the Young Al Capone
[Verse]
Yo Check, I've been the illest since I came out
I stay out, my ripped jeans frayed out
Made a million of a rhyme call that shit a payout
You quit when I stayed out
Work until the sun up then I call that shit a fade out
You front the hustle
Rhyme sick, I captain a lime rick
Fill the 44 with glass and blast with the 9 tick
On the stick, pushing gas and blast with the old pedal
I Tokyo drift then blast my name all on top the medal
I go blow, oh wow, It's the young R-O-B I can't stop now
Chicka, chicka, chicka, chicka, chicka, chicka, ow
I used to suck, used to suck but I'm dope now
See I was made to be crazily, date-ily, facially, racially
Space fully, nasally, disgracefully
See I droppеd out of school said fuck it lived shamelessly
Tеachers said I suck but I still rap gracefully
Uhh, I'm switching flows like I was born to write
Corny mother fuckers judging on my skin type
But I've been the illest for realist
So baby tell me that you feel this
Kill this with the lyrics so deep that they leave you asking what the fuck the deal is, like what the deal is
I'm getting better baby, thats what the fuck the deal is
When I touch down I'm king of the city
While you were out getting drunk I was working overnights man it ain't pretty
Boy I'm so sick that I look like that I'm P-Diddy
I was made for this fucking city
But I'm puff before the Sean
So hold up man and wait and watch what happens when they stop touch down and turn me on
It's all filet mignon diamonds for the bestest
So much fucking shit on my teeth I scare the dentist
Can't even touch on the style I been the restest
Everything I spit of the top is straight Memphis
Living young and reckless, do this all effect less
Fuck a diamond chain I've got rings on my necklace
Been here, I been there, now it's like who doesn't
Cause the second that I blow I'm finna blow just like concussion
They rushing, and fushing, and blushing, and crushing, and rushing the rows, Just to see me ball like Jordan when the buzzer blows
So I've been going hard and balling up just the pros
Just so I can prove that I can make it in my hand me down clothes
I'm chopping O's, out the rows
Spit it so sick that when I spit I think the grass grows
You can't touch on the style It's all finesse
And if you ask me who I was I'd say that I'm the best
I'm getting pressed by so many woman in a Tes
That I have to hit it early when I'm getting dressed
Thats just the style man I'm ankling to fork
And if I'm going off the top then it's the king of New York
Whats up
Ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya. ya, yo
One time it's the Young Al Capone
[Verse]
Yo Check, I've been the illest since I came out
I stay out, my ripped jeans frayed out
Made a million of a rhyme call that shit a payout
You quit when I stayed out
Work until the sun up then I call that shit a fade out
You front the hustle
Rhyme sick, I captain a lime rick
Fill the 44 with glass and blast with the 9 tick
On the stick, pushing gas and blast with the old pedal
I Tokyo drift then blast my name all on top the medal
I go blow, oh wow, It's the young R-O-B I can't stop now
Chicka, chicka, chicka, chicka, chicka, chicka, ow
I used to suck, used to suck but I'm dope now
See I was made to be crazily, date-ily, facially, racially
Space fully, nasally, disgracefully
See I droppеd out of school said fuck it lived shamelessly
Tеachers said I suck but I still rap gracefully
Uhh, I'm switching flows like I was born to write
Corny mother fuckers judging on my skin type
But I've been the illest for realist
So baby tell me that you feel this
Kill this with the lyrics so deep that they leave you asking what the fuck the deal is, like what the deal is
I'm getting better baby, thats what the fuck the deal is
When I touch down I'm king of the city
While you were out getting drunk I was working overnights man it ain't pretty
Boy I'm so sick that I look like that I'm P-Diddy
I was made for this fucking city
But I'm puff before the Sean
So hold up man and wait and watch what happens when they stop touch down and turn me on
It's all filet mignon diamonds for the bestest
So much fucking shit on my teeth I scare the dentist
Can't even touch on the style I been the restest
Everything I spit of the top is straight Memphis
Living young and reckless, do this all effect less
Fuck a diamond chain I've got rings on my necklace
Been here, I been there, now it's like who doesn't
Cause the second that I blow I'm finna blow just like concussion
They rushing, and fushing, and blushing, and crushing, and rushing the rows, Just to see me ball like Jordan when the buzzer blows
So I've been going hard and balling up just the pros
Just so I can prove that I can make it in my hand me down clothes
I'm chopping O's, out the rows
Spit it so sick that when I spit I think the grass grows
You can't touch on the style It's all finesse
And if you ask me who I was I'd say that I'm the best
I'm getting pressed by so many woman in a Tes
That I have to hit it early when I'm getting dressed
Thats just the style man I'm ankling to fork
And if I'm going off the top then it's the king of New York
Whats up
( Robert Martino )
www.ChordsAZ.com