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lirik lagu south rd – aasim

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[intro: jack nicholson from the departed]
in this country, one guy get the items
and the other guy, pays ’em
no ticky, no laundry

[interlude: dj green lantern]
let’s go to southside queens right now
grind music, wise g
lakewood, come on

[verse 1]
uh, uh, senseless, school is never where i learned my lessons
rooftoops with boomboxes where my searches ended
famous, i wanted ever since my mind could think it
handcuffed in the back of impalas fo’ public drinkin’
if grind music ain’t discover me, i’d pro’ly be a
alchi in recovery, now i’m just a addict with a
one to three, contractor bring back the suckеr free
game in a choke ’til the brokе n*ggas live comfortably
in the back of a dollar van, with the gats and a driver, man
thinkin’ ’bout my mama, i just need a couple dollars, man
i’m a honest, and i try to be the hardest worker
even though my pro’lems bigger, i just got a life preserver
man the streets is cold, every day it’s three below
and in a week or so, i might just be with keyshia cole
my story is told, walkin’ down glory’s road
grindin’ forever you could tell by my dirty toes
[chorus]
i walk a good mile, i wear a good shoe
i might just be wild, i might be brand new
i talk with such style, my voice is clear blue
my mic sound nice, i check ya one, two
and uh, one, two, and uh
if you feelin’ like a gangsta, bust ya hammer
if you livin’ a hustler, know the grammar
and if you struggle like i struggle, then up them matters, go

[verse 2]
vicious, i do my murder smooth like blowin’ kisses
my flow is known fo’ switchin’, pr*ne to give you motion sickness
the mic’s the murder weapon, me myself’s a cold defendant
exotic voice box, melodic tone disturb ya senses
in front of curbs and fences, stash up a perfect sentence
drinker with urgent stressors, sellin’ the herbal essences
aasim, a verbal menace, ghetto or mechanic
servin’ to wear my annex, and my whole persona matches
that of a soldier, schizophrenic, the newest bandit
spit in a ya food, a savage, in a mood to prove my madness
dunny, the money is funny in my pockets now
i move in silence every promise microscopic now
i make the honeys smile, the profile is somethin’ wow
i came for nothin’ ’bout a mother gutter, what a style
just a humble child hustle fo’ the crumbs, i’m tryna
run ’em down, hopin’ that the streets won’t try to, gun ’em down
[chorus]
i walk a good mile, i wear a good shoe
i might just be wild, i might be brand new
i talk with such style, my voice is clear blue
my mic sound nice, i check ya one, two
and uh, one, two, and uh
if you feelin’ like a gangsta, bust ya hammer
if you livin’ a hustler, know the grammar
and if you struggle like i struggle, then up them matters, go

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