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lirik lagu hidden stages – t.f

[intro: ab*soul]
this how we living man, this how we living
real n*gga, fly like that all day
real trenches, real trenches man
they say that to get your fingers hot
ay, man

[verse: ab*soul & t.f]
bunk shades under moonlight
knock a b*tch if the mood right
on the blade, i’m the butcher, wish a n*gga would
benny my n*gga, don’t get it misunderstood
bottom b*tch was dominican, moved to the bronx
they said that’s where they started hip*hop
you know i’m all about the roots, and the orthodontist
but i drilled through the c*n*l to get to the truth
you know i had to lie about it
firebird, thunderbird, i had to fly about it
to get to the proof, i had to climb a mountain
uh, it ain’t no way about it
look, my only way
uh, my only way about it
uh, i had to spray about it
look, i had to pray about it
uh, ain’t no way that i ain’t solid
man, i should have took my ass to college
but that was too basic
so i took it to a new degree
twelve hundred for the limevines out of shabuya, uh
had the ninety*nine cent white shoe polish
for the sh*lltoes, with the blue fat laces, yeah
now the company’s sh*ll like snail claws, hehehe
donatello with the stick
teenage mutant ninja turtle moving swift
where the heir goes? splinter is questionable
f*ck a hoodrat, we sliding down melrose
i’m with a aussie b*tch, she’s from melbourne
uh, everything player, yeah it’s airborne
she kinda old, yeah she smell like liz claibourne
i’m finna blow up like i’m claymore
grew up on figg, pimpin’ like rudy ray moore
uh, should i say more? what?
you n*ggas sound better on mute
jésus christ in the flesh
get fish, break bread, put a ticket on judas’ head
give him some sudafed, it won’t do him no use, huh
four footprints in the sand when i walk
sold out crowd in the stands when i talk
heh, grew up in the church, i was baptized
they’ll still blast for me at the blink of an eye
walk by faith and not by sight
i mean really
all eyes on me, n*ggas might as well call me 3pac
no biggie
uh, r.i.p, pull up, 5 series, no silly
off that lil wayne, “no ceilings”
off that money on your head, i’m in a bentley
uh, if it’s up to me, i’m sipping rémy
look, yeah, i feel like tommy buns in “belly”
sh*t got tricky, had to powder coat the chevy
bathroom, powder my nose, that sh*t was heavy
what? i don’t think you n*ggas ready
intermission, that’s breakfast for the pros
it’s 5:47 in the morning, shout out to glow
moment of silence, yo
y’all know i was fathered by the b*st*rds
kept honor amongst the bandits, everything skanless
found the pleasure and the pain, in the cut getting band*aids
stay dangerous, this a mandate, k!ller!

- t f

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