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lirik lagu representing your ground – echō unltd.

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echō unltd. ft. p.s.p. * “representing your ground”
[emcee(s): p.s.p.]
[producer(s): p.s.p.]

[intro: sample with scratches]
“what you gonna do when a n*gga come through?” (x2)

[hook: p.s.p. and (sample with scratches)]
down for my crown, kid, pound for pound
and when you’re out of town, represent your ground (“what you gonna do when a n*gga come through?”)
not trying to lose is how i get down
so when you’re out of town, represent your ground (“what you gonna do when a n*gga come through?”)

[verse 1: p.s.p.]
the streets?
you can’t judge it. your text stays low*
*budget. i shine like platinum, you can’t smudge it
nonstop, i keep emcees in line like rollerblades
your methods from the past like cameo fades. i’m better
than the average. kids be fronting like they’re savage
faking fool fantasies to bring them cabbage
rhyming is an issue. you can’t diss that real
with fort official. you’ll get discarded like gristle
your technique is slummy, your style’s runny—word up
wack crews fall apart like crash test dummies
lyrically, i boom through your barrio. you feeling me
lay down the foundation heads don’t be knowing
i’m blowing up your whole sh*t like oklahoma, god flew down
and when i finished, bones is all that your team found
throw your raps in the gutters. misled emcees
insane, bringing more games than parker brothers
i rush the stage like haitians to entertain n*ggas that be
on some crazy sh*t, who be acting like mental patients
it’s p. i move through the crowd like buddha smoke, blessing
majesties, working strategies. you talk about
representing crews, but you ain’t paid no dues, n*gga
see? i’ve been in this sh*t since y’all wore baby shoes
you talk about representing crews, but you ain’t paid
no dues. i’ve been in this sh*t since y’all wore baby shoes
[hook: p.s.p. and (sample with scratches)]
down for my crown, kid, pound for pound (“what you gonna do when a n*gga come through?”)
and when you’re out of town, represent your ground
not trying to lose is how i get down (“what you gonna do when a n*gga come through?”)
when you’re out of town, represent your ground
down for my crown, kid, pound for pound (“what you gonna do when a n*gga come through?”)
and when you’re out of town, represent your ground
not trying to lose is how i get down (“what you gonna do when a n*gga come through?”)
so when you’re out of town, represent your ground

[verse 2: p.s.p.]
come real. i don’t need to act ill to make you slip
throw your whole program like poker chips
you can’t f*ck around, so why try? i run my game
undercover—you couldn’t spot me if you was fbi
off your gimmicks, you’re gimmical. i burn a rapper like
a chemical, third*degree. your words are miniscule
n*ggas blowing smoke like tailpipes with the frail technique
that won’t float because it’s weak when we speak
let that be spoken. cut careers when i’m open
understand, son. i don’t give a what about your slogan
you spoke your piece, but you had doubt, you’re assed*out
f*cked around, caught beatings ‘til you passed out
watch out when i enter the center, bringing more vocals than
n*ggas be rocking bubblegooses in the dead of winter
it’s so strange. rap carries range like rover
drive through your speaker, leave you broke down like a nova
fat freestyles become proverbial projectiles
stay wild, punching holes like stray bullets up in your style
making noise like handguns, releasing on
ill ones. rap recitals raw, wicked tools, son
[hook: p.s.p. and (sample with scratches)] (x2)
down for my crown, kid, pound for pound (“what you gonna do when a n*gga come through?”)
and when you’re out of town, represent your ground
not trying to lose is how i get down (“what you gonna do when a n*gga come through?”)
so when you’re out of town, represent your ground

[verse 3: p.s.p.]
sharp swords, i push raps like currents through cords
flexing, crazy like s*x without protection
it’s elementary. you entry*level heads can’t see
past the hour when i bring you forward a century
brothers be just a few years out the cradle, thinking
they’re able, but they was gassed by their record label
you need to get a hobby ‘cause you the same type cat
fronting like you’re big w*lly in the hotel lobby
you’re on some sickness talking ‘bout how you bust with quickness
i got a witness, see, you’re lying in this hip*hop business
move*fakers equal small*time cheese*makers
apparatus is faulty, you dropped the ball, see?
i’m on the scene to score like heroine fiends want more
heard of n*ggas trying to scheme, but who don’t need that cream?
dim your lights. i need cash without tight sights
i’m like a kawasaki, you’re just a little pedal bike
that’s how we get down—don’t be playing around. deadly
ground? man, listen. how you think that sound?
make it happen, crank up the asrs, sps
and 950s, and let’s commence the rapping
[hook: p.s.p. and (sample with scratches)]
down for my crown, kid, pound for pound (“what you gonna do when a n*gga come through?”)
and when you’re out of town, represent your ground
not trying to lose is how i get down (“what you gonna do when a n*gga come through?”)
so when you’re out of town, represent your ground. ayyo
down for my crown, kid, pound for pound (“what you gonna do when a n*gga come through?”)
and when you’re out of town, represent your ground
not trying to lose is how i get down (“what you gonna do when a n*gga come through?”)
so when you’re out of town, represent your ground

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