[Chorus]
Got my sound right
Ayy what it sound like
They talk behind your back
That’s real childlike
They’re trying to change your voices up, but it don’t sound right
Ain’t never quitting boy, y’all never see no towel fly
I got my style right
Rock crowds right
I rev the town right
I rock the crown right
Level headed, yeah I never was the wild type
Smooth motherfucker smoke the Black & Mild type
[Verse]
I like real drums, I wanna feel some
But get the 808s when I wanna kill some
But right now I just really wanna spill some
And listen closеly, get to know me as a little onе
I was a real one when I was real young
I had the little middle finger with the little thumb
I wasn’t born with self-esteem, I had to build some
I used to fill my lungs till I couldn’t feel none
This was Chatam County though, almost went to Northwood
Four-wheelers, dope dealers, slow living in church folk
RC Colas and cars, hogs and dirt roads
The pain used to burn slow, but never let the hurt show
Speaking of the hurt though, I seen it with my own eyes
Peeking at them fallen shortcomings of these long lies
Feel them coming down my face when Jay made that Song Cry
Especially when she made that right turn at that wrong time
Fuck it’s been a long time, I’m reminiscing
I played my favorite games on all different kind of systems
We was all tripping when the Panthers finally made it
But they lost it all to Brady and them Lakers played them Pistons
I can still smell them Black & Milds from a distance
Papa still in the kitchen, four 4s were still tippin’
Plot was still thickening, I put it in a written
Trying to hang on memories, but see a lot is still missing
Forgot about the Faircloths, forgot about the Mangums
Forgot about the foster home beatings in the basement
Forgot about the love when I was all about the glory
I put so much in my rhymes that I forgot about the stories
Like that time when I was nine and knew religion was important
But I wasn’t satisfied inside this body I was born in
Trying to be immortal, I started out recording
Boy I knew I had them verses, but had trouble with the chorus
[Chorus]
Got my sound right
Ayy what it sound like
They talk behind your back
That’s real childlike
They’re trying to change your voices up, but it don’t sound right
Ain’t never quitting boy, y’all never see no towel fly
I got my style right
Rock crowds right
I rev the town right
I rock the crown right
Level headed, yeah I never was the wild type
Smooth motherfucker smoke the Black & Mild type
Got my sound right
Ayy what it sound like
They talk behind your back
That’s real childlike
They’re trying to change your voices up, but it don’t sound right
Ain’t never quitting boy, y’all never see no towel fly
I got my style right
Rock crowds right
I rev the town right
I rock the crown right
Level headed, yeah I never was the wild type
Smooth motherfucker smoke the Black & Mild type
[Verse]
I like real drums, I wanna feel some
But get the 808s when I wanna kill some
But right now I just really wanna spill some
And listen closеly, get to know me as a little onе
I was a real one when I was real young
I had the little middle finger with the little thumb
I wasn’t born with self-esteem, I had to build some
I used to fill my lungs till I couldn’t feel none
This was Chatam County though, almost went to Northwood
Four-wheelers, dope dealers, slow living in church folk
RC Colas and cars, hogs and dirt roads
The pain used to burn slow, but never let the hurt show
Speaking of the hurt though, I seen it with my own eyes
Peeking at them fallen shortcomings of these long lies
Feel them coming down my face when Jay made that Song Cry
Especially when she made that right turn at that wrong time
Fuck it’s been a long time, I’m reminiscing
I played my favorite games on all different kind of systems
We was all tripping when the Panthers finally made it
But they lost it all to Brady and them Lakers played them Pistons
I can still smell them Black & Milds from a distance
Papa still in the kitchen, four 4s were still tippin’
Plot was still thickening, I put it in a written
Trying to hang on memories, but see a lot is still missing
Forgot about the Faircloths, forgot about the Mangums
Forgot about the foster home beatings in the basement
Forgot about the love when I was all about the glory
I put so much in my rhymes that I forgot about the stories
Like that time when I was nine and knew religion was important
But I wasn’t satisfied inside this body I was born in
Trying to be immortal, I started out recording
Boy I knew I had them verses, but had trouble with the chorus
[Chorus]
Got my sound right
Ayy what it sound like
They talk behind your back
That’s real childlike
They’re trying to change your voices up, but it don’t sound right
Ain’t never quitting boy, y’all never see no towel fly
I got my style right
Rock crowds right
I rev the town right
I rock the crown right
Level headed, yeah I never was the wild type
Smooth motherfucker smoke the Black & Mild type
( G YAMAZAWA )
www.ChordsAZ.com