lirik lagu da sequel – nick wiz
nick wiz ft. shadowz in da dark * “da sequel”
[emcee(s): black sun and monochrome]
[producer(s): nick wiz]
[co*producer: monochrome]
[hook 1: monochrome and black sun]
type raw
type rare. yeah, we’re busting off in the air, so force
the coffin close. the beef? it’s dead, son. me nah fi care
monochrome poem*spitting, bone*hitting, dome*splitting
you know the order, son. faking jacks forbidden
for women in denim, hoodlums in black apparel late*night
it’s only right. moving like a shadow
forevermore living lavish like a pharaoh, building
with my people. follow for now, son, the sequel
[hook 2: monochrome and black sun]
the sequel, final show—close the curtains
time’s wasting, son. burn the herb and make your weigh*in
the jam’s playing, rock the nation. the sequel
the sequel
[verse 1: black sun]
i said
someting going on this
evening, sweet in dream (yes!)
no wan’ hear about babylon (haha!)
don’t wan’ hear no revolution. the pressure’s
on. drop these bombs upon the savage
battlefields of madness, i’m lounging in the barracks
solid eighteen karats product in the package—watch this
b*st*rd fall from ammunition in the foxhole
bodies fell and got cold, lifeless
shots grazed but couldn’t faze the righteous in the slightest
creep through hills like cypress, tightest of all game
don’t make a move, run the chains, maintain to face
defeat plus the concrete. ain’t nothing sweet, son
the god gotta eat. this be survival of the fittest
by any means, it seems my team will blow like
‘fro sheen for green. meanwhile, i walk the streets with vodka
in the canteen, a shadow unseen
living this, caught in between a rock and a hard
place, mugsy malone and scarface
narcotics that my squad lace lethal
hold it down, letting off rounds for my people
the sequel (the sequel)
[hook 2: black sun and monochrome]
the sequel, final show—close the curtains
time is wasting, son. burn the herb, make your weigh*in
your jam’s playing, rock the nation. the sequel
the sequel
[verse 2: monochrome and black sun]
so it’s
on, huh? the pressure, we got tecs up in the dresser
mess around and get your ground round*chopped for ghetto pleasure
whoever type raw clown, we’re kicking doors down, illegal
entry. i’m ready to give a good beat*down, so limping off only
tempt me. watch the tone of your voice—here’s your lyrical l
to get moist. deliver damage like broken packages. choice
run scams sure as dan tan’s a fan
of weed*sellers and rockefeller grands and black hands
that’s why i plan to only deal with fam—where my peoples?
holding fort like court judges sentencing felons their sequel
this time, you gon’ know my name when i shine, nine*
*inning bases loaded, rhymes cracked across your mind, refined
if you’re swine, coke bottle glasses for blind
intertwine with divine lines, apx rewind four times
yap and we could get to scr*pping on some clapping. if you
want it, got it, get it on, son, and make it happen
try and test? penetrate vest, bullets’ll best. look at you
ducking while i reach in my pocket and pull out cess
they’re paranoid. nevertheless, they’re trying to be my equal, high like
steeples, puffing two*hitter quitters, yo, the sequel
[hook 2: monochrome and black sun]
the sequel, final show—close the curtains
time is wasting, son. burn the herb and make your weigh*in
the jam’s playing, rock the nation. the sequel
the sequel
[hook 1: monochrome and black sun]
type raw
type rare. yeah, we’re busting off in the air, so force
the coffin close. the beef? it’s dead, son. me nah fi care
monochrome poem*spitting, bone*hitting, dome*splitting
you know the order, son. faking jacks forbidden
for women in denim, hoodlums in black apparel late*night
it’s only right. moving like a shadow
forevermore living lavish just like a pharaoh
building with my people. follow for now, son, the sequel
[hook 2: black sun and monochrome]
the sequel, final show—close the curtains
time’s wasting, son. burn the herb, make your weigh*in
the jam’s playing, rock the nation. the sequel
the sequel
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