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lirik lagu jeff hardy – manic tl

[verse i]
really on a dash how he came up out of last
it’s funny he gettin’ money he was bottom of the class
if i say to breathe fire they’ll be swallowin’ the gas
and they ’prolly wouldn’t stop until the bottom of their glass

she show me that she bad, im’a slap her on the ass
take her home, and tell her to hail a cab on the ave
everybody trash so i laugh when i pass
they think that im goin’ mad, their just not about their cash

flash cs on her bag, flash gs on her belt
flash bs with her fingers, you would get it if you’re real

give em somethin’ to feel or somethin’ to understand
everybody got a method, i did it without a plan
im stack it to the ceiling, we breakin’ rubber bands
down shorty got an ass so fat that i don’t know how she dance

d*mn, i’m on the road with a band
and a bucket of cocaine, so i’m usually slammed
sh*t, i do what i can, jamin’ in the crowd with some fans
or out with the crew in a lamb, sl*ts two to a man
getting crazier than they should but badder here than the lands
and if the ruge ain’t in my hand, still got it tucked in my pants
f*ck you in advance, i don’t see nothin’ outside the score
try to climb in my mind, you’d be terrified out of yours
defile with no remorse, their claimin’ they want a war
but underneath it their too b*tch to step out on their f*ckin’ porch

like livin for yous a chore
you swore on all your everything everyday how the f*ck’d you turn off course?
i took it with brute force, and only me to endorse it
came in and we motherf*ckin torched it

[hook]
i get it at all costs since back when it popped off
its the swanton bomb, i’m droppin’ off five floors

you ain’t ever been raw, you never been top dog
if you got to where i’m at then you’d ‘prolly get knocked off
(‘prolly get knocked off)

[verse ii]
you never doin’ sh*t that you could
though honestly i’m never really doin’ sh*t that i should
but you and i can’t be compared, don’t get it misunderstood
if you don’t believe me, its easy, we’ll leave it up to the hood
new york city, whats good?
shouts to north manhattan and brooklyn and the bronx
and to queens and staten

my soldiers whats happenin’
my k!llers keep clappin
my hustlers stay stackin’
take it to the bank laughin

i make my money and pass it to get more money the fastest
and im’a never retire, i’ll die before doin’ that sh*t
i’ll die before ever crashin’, some people tell me thats bat sh*t
theres a lotta sh*t to call it, i choose to call it a passion

dont know how to be relaxin
i keep it out of mind
‘specially since times paper, theres presidents on the line
just peep me through the vapors, i’m livin’ in so divine
grind 23 and 1 but i love it where i reside

risin’ and then i ride and shinin’ the way i fly
y’all are a dozen a dime, a hundred million of a kind
maybe some of y’all are fine, but that is generous and at best
you got to where you got because you studied off of my tests

[hook]
i get it at all costs since back when it popped off
its the swanton bomb, i’m droppin’ off five floors

you ain’t ever been raw, you never been top dog
if you got to where i’m at then you’d ‘prolly get knocked off
(‘prolly get knocked off)

- manic tl

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