lirik lagu schhs – monger
[heavy t]
honestly (what?)
i need apologies from those who propose, c.o.b. isn’t a boss’s boat
in an entrepreneurcy
i’ll be up to par to spar, with that team
in my craft’s advancing adequately
as i script schemes, never needed triple beams
just my rap sheet
and monger’s glorious storage of beats
an act’s easily seen, through a hatin’ emcee
when they look me in the eyes, the lazy one reads chumps
i see fright, before you proceed to deploy your sixteen (what?)
i’ll kick a written that could split the pacific in six different divisions
each eye witness, gets life time visions, of ty, insighting wreckage
still angelic, like an angel flying
so the mic, yeah i bless it, man
what y’all mad at me for? (why, huh?)
b*tch i’m on the sc, hip hop scene, ain’t in the streets
heavy t was mentally tough enough, to take a detour (word up)
plus, in a dub, sc’s sworn to build a multitude of tributes for t
on grandview street
yo, what a grand view jeez
speakin’ of, hip hop, this cannot fizz out and stop
cuz this spittin’, is legit all i got
no pops. but moms is tougher than nigerian ‘locs
you barely pennin’, on tracks, i’m very dependent
it’s like a therapy session, puttin in rhymes when i been stressing
or messin’ around and wreckin’ you hatin’ clowns
chickens is cl!ckin’ the second leo’s tag slaps, if you dippin after kickin it, we different
imma stay bussin fat raps
i’m staying the labs like a kickback, and you can’t hang, so get kicked back kid (tell em)
black, chicano, j*p whose raps, are dapper than hand shakin
after my crew make it
we snaggin you on sp*ceships
to get a martian’s placement
that what your cracka master gets, for those hardships we faced b*tch (b*tch!)
along with them slave ships
i hope he stays, unpaid
the game, to take from the rich, i’ve heard some hard spit from sp*ce, b*tch
they sent me, and left t
with the ancient emcess
so i guess i’m b.t., before trap
for your ass, you’re e.t., explore track or another sorta sport, jack
i assort these dork, who point and laugh
and snap the glasses of cats who say, i’m not passionate about this rappin sh*t
i keeps em guessin, and it’s accurate to say
your act’s been done for days
i awoke n’ gun smoke, arose from the verbal smith and wesson i hold
[outro]
uh, you did you get that? i sounded aight? aight fasho, weout
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