lirik lagu words & verbs – maseo
[verse 1 — maseo]
i was born
son of vincent, brother of anne
dodged my mama, de la’s the camp
been doin’ it for years, approval is stamped
when they come to makin’ hits, i got this sh-t on clamp
n-ggas talking dog sh-t and they need the lamp
they be smokin’ so much wet that their style is damp
man, i blow mad speakers and amps
run through n-gga’s camps with my own stash of plants
singin’ my own chants (hey ya, hey ya)
reppin’ my own camp (de la, de la)
i suggest you don’t talk no sh-t, hock my sh-t
come around me, slippin’ perc in my sh-t
poppin’ corks and sh-t? yeah, it’s all legit
but the (?) ain’t frontin’ like i’ll ever be rich
ain’t p-ssin’ the b-tch, i just keep on, keep on
cuz in the next milli i’mma rip on, rip on
don’t sleep on, sleep on
i’mma creep on, creep on
sh-t is my style some of y’all eatin’ on
sh-t, a n-gga ain’t (?) is better
throw a curve, touch a nerve when i put it together
any type of weather, hot or cold
what’s the name of the crew, now? de la soul
and i am the band on the mountain, countin’ hits
while they keep doubtin’
[hook]
words and verbs
rolled like a dutch
tight, the very right for y’all
eatin’ on the sh-t
yo, y’all need to quit
[verse 2 — maseo]
comin’ from a side so far, bizarre
long pop in, studdin’, microphone grabbin’
whack mu’f-ckas no longer am i havin’
from the nine-nine to the milli-milli
things gonna get kinda silly, illy
me and my crew, we flip the scrilly, really
not trying’ to play the w-lly, get woozy
off them c-cktails and the floozies
m-a-s-e, had to add the o
cuz my f-l-o is doubly correct
and when i come on your set, double the effect
so n-ggas talkin’ s-x, showin’ no respect
talkin’ like they got the credit and they -ss in debt
gettin’ me upset? naw, naw, not yet
just a few that i got to check and out of balance
some comin’ out when they don’t really got talent
[verse 3 — kovas]
it’s like, it’s like, it’s like
twice the trouble, we smash crews to rubble, uh
right off the muscle, we hustle in the struggle, um
double the efforts to make money like russell
un-touchable, twistin’ the trees, now blaze the hate, ok
it’s k-o-v-a to the s
takin’ you back, yes some feaky-feaky-fresh
drop some over-drum, native with the tongue
the one whose son steady, ready, with (?)
revolutions is heard at thirty-three and a third
tighter than a dutch when i drop words and verbs
representin’ belize and all my family overseas
double-barrel hittin’ your chest, your contest weed
rollin’ in a stolen dutch holdin’ the hookers open
ready for the strokin’ off with the words the n-gga spoken
i’m hopin’ she be deep-throatin’, she must be thinkin’ i’m jokin’
she took a sip of the potion (?)
we out
[hook]
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