A$AP Ferg, Wiki, Your Old Droog With Christian Scott - Complex City Cypher | Текст песни

• Тексты песен
• A$AP Ferg, Wiki, Your Old Droog With Christian Scott
• Complex City Cypher

[Part I: Wiki]
Yeah, it's Wik'
People say that they want me, tell me that they could sell me
I ain't a product, I produce honest
Shit, you's a wise-guy talk in ebonics
Using some chronic to get me to the level where I only settle for the rawest
The flaws that makes it flawless
What I see, just record it
Caught you up in bombers, whether brawling or warring
I'm just a bar with bars, not the type that you swallow
The type I spit till I'm hollow
Oh, I'm hollow, I'm a [?]
Put it in perspective, bro, it's right upon us
That's how I always saw it
So even if it's just a couple bucks coming out my wallet
Oh, we balling
From the day we started till the day we call it
Call it what you call it
And nah, I'm not no artist but I do raw serve some broad who's gorgeous
If you fuck with it, pump with it till it's boring
We'll be touring
Coming back for more and more and coming back for more
Up on the train, 86 and it's reckless, I visit my mom
42nd [?] by the dogs
Dog, I ain't never had no keys, [?] car
Do it right, do it wrong
I remember used to steal them cars
First it was orange then it was green
Now they all gone
Now we all beige and we gotta paint it[?]
First time I kiss on the train
First time I got lit on the train
First time I got gripped by the pigs on the train
You don't know what it is on the train
You don't know what I did on the train
I fell in love on the train
I been through hell on the train, don't tell me a thing
Let me maintain, let me maintain
I know I'll be well on the train

[Part II: Your Old Droog]
Check, check, wild D, listen
Yo, I got mad riches, groupies been on my tip
Bad bitches scoop me in their fly whips
Brawlers bumping Christopher Wallace
Breeze off on them collars and officer Morales like, \"Catch me if you can\"
Only ones who sketch me now are fans
Morale is high, I'm the man
Where everybody act like they your man and dislike you
Simply cause you don't go along with their plans, do what you gotta
We sipping horchata at the Borgata
A lotta cats die to live this life
They don't know how to [?] or to expand their bandwith
To get the man a myth and a fresh pair of Stan Smiths
And I don't know about no dapper clothes and zapatos
Talking 'bout Beefhart and Zappa, though
I use a word like apropos and still debow tea bags
Out of backstages at rappers' shows, take it for granted
I take a bag and fill it up with free water
That seventy-five cent, wearing a three-quarter coat
Should've got something shorter, exceptional rhyme order
Spit the shit you wish you would've thought of
This that heat, producers think I need 'em
I'd replace 'em tomorrow and I wouldn't miss a beat
The generation X tell your clique to suck it
Throw Timbs to your Gucci hat, kick the bucket
And I ain't even meet Wyclef yet
Knew I was hot but when I got my first death threat
Told 'em to come see, hit him with the address
Never worry 'bout no bad breath, talk about me
Let 'em pile on, cause now they gotta file on
The kid who play finger style, strings made of nylon
Coming with hot lines for you to get your dial on
Always hear Old Droog spitting that Dylan
Dylan, Dylan, where the hell is Dylan?
Probably hiding out on West 8th in hot long
Sling a deal to a Section 8, Adrienne Bailon
Sneaking out at night and getting busy with the crime on
Lookin' for someone to wild on
While on drugs, my white bitch keeps gats in her Uggs
Probably planned attacks fueled by Xanax
Chop off someone's hand with an ax, facts
Now I'm only concerned with brain
Stay printing contracts out of Kinko's machines
The competition are fiends, all they do is codeine and wear Jaco jeans
Stone cold, they Malenko, Dean
Deep fishing zinc, protein
Can't see me, see?
YOD spotted like a coyote
With your wife's pussy juices on my goatee
Grody gag me with a spoon, acne wasn't even noon
And she have baggies in her poon
Who is she? She's a valley girl
Yo, the band straight throwing me the alley curl
Then I yam it, I stuff and they get stunned, I slam it
My finishes at the rim run the gambit
Like when's he gonna stop? Goddamnit
Writing is like Shakespeare
It shakes pears, this my Hamlet
Feel me? Top five, I'm on fire

[Part III: A$AP Ferg]
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Beautiful people let's take a second to think
We continue these issues, the ship is drowning, we sink
This is nothing political, this is so we be sync
Sit together forever, we can weather the rain
We can weather the storm, let's try to move on
Build a better community so our children be norm
Transform from arms and bombs like Vietnam
Teach your kid how to eat, teach your kid how to farm
Watch what you put in your body so we could live it long
Mind, body, and soul intact, my niggas strong
Rap ain't no lap, this more like a marathon
This track ain't no track, just something I said it on
Get life in harmony, put love in your arms
Forgive to receive the blessing, the peace and calm
This the product Malcolm X and Farrakhan
Martin Luther and Marvin Gaye alter what ghettos are
All my beautiful people, all my beautiful people
I'm the ghetto apostle, come on, follow, I'll lead you
Tell 'em put down the pipe, leave your bottles and needles
Treat your family right, your mama is gonna need you
Mama, auntie, and cousin, oh, she told you 'bout thugging?
He ain't amount to nothing, he on top of that oven
Selling drugs on that corner as little niggas be drumming
Blaka blaka, the bucking, they fittin' to hit you with something
Check a nigga with hammers, they fittin' to open your bucket
Popping your condom, pimp, and say nothing 'bout stunting
You ain't talking nothing, and you ain't talking 'bout nothing
Bullshit, I'm the pope, I think I am onto something
One hand power people, one hand power people
White, purple, and yellow and all of my brown people
We can be positive, don't let negativity kill you
First up with your friends to move a whole town of people
Hold up
If you ain't 'bout progression then pick up a desert eagle, hold up
If you ain't 'bout progression then pick up a desert eagle
If you ain't 'bout progression then pick up a desert eagle
Yeah, yeah, uh, come on
Harlem World, come on
New York, Harlem World, come on
Yeah, yeah, uh
Let's quit all the fun and games
Let's talk about the world that come with the fame
We all just people, who's to blame
For the road to riches and diamond rings?
I had a premonition me losing my Yamborghini
Lean and ketamine took my man out of his beenie
I wish we could've worked out, eat a bit of zuccini
Traded that big bottle of Henny for the Fiji
I was Alladin, he was a genie
I love his momma, I be saddened when she seen me
Who would've knew that the party would end wrong?
Who would've knew Fergy Ferg would sing a sad song?
Who would've knew A$AP would come this far?
Who would've knew Yams' vision would make us all stars?
The fame and access that kill us all
You ever deal with a drug addict who was your boy?
Who, when you talk to him, he keep nodding off ?
Swear it sound like he was dying every time he snored
Touchy subject, heart kind of sore
I can't help it people, this I cannot ignore
I gotta talk 'bout it, I gotta get it off
Anybody with a problem with it made you niggas soft
Yeah, anybody with a problem with it made you niggas soft
R.I.P. A$AP Yams
R.I.P. Capital Steez
R.I.P. to Chinx Drugz
A$AP, Ferg, New York, I'm out