Creative Control - Wiki "Wikispeaks" | Текст песни

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• Creative Control
• Wiki "Wikispeaks"

Explain [Verse 1]
I gotcha eyes glued open
You got a eye itch, you wanna blink
What you think? That ain't a wise pick
That's why my friends only got like three guys left
And only got like three five cents
You wanna blow my head off? Be my guest
Breathe out my soul, you can see my breath
On some next shit, you should see my debt
Take the train everyday it's like a break from the pain
Subway cars keep my heart at bay
Single ride paid, they start to raise
I go under, I gotta tell you I ain't got the change
I got a boy play ball, he go hard in the paint
I got another that write, he go hard with the paint
All this shit got me startin' to deck, startin' to drink
Gulp, gulp, startin' to stink
A drunk mutt, that's my pedigree, it's meant to be
Hennessy's the only thing that's friendly to me
I'm straight New York, what a lot of y'all pretending to be
The cash will feel the cuts eventually
Smoke the blunts consecutively
Fuck dogs disrespecting to me
Explain the words so we can let it just be
Yeah baby, let it just be
I let the evil enter my soul to get that legal tender
Taking that tender illegal pooty, seeing splendor
Too much into my mind, no time for Jesus' agenda
Beating my dick's the only way of beating my temper
I just leave it to pleasure to relieve all my pressure
I'm just a shitty toy, can't put the pieces together
Check, check, just a shitty toy

[Hook]
Niggas gotta peep the way I speak
I hit my peak, hittin' L's 'til I sleep
Sippin' 40's 'til shorties forget that Wiki's sweet
Kicked out the crib, roam the city streets
Think I'm pretty weak cause I've seen some shitty weeks
It's about time Wiki speaks
It's about time Wiki freaks

[Verse 2]
I'm just tryin' to spit, can I, can I, can I?
Damn I feel like Jay-Z in '96
Man I feel like ODB in '93
Am I even an '04 Ye?
Girlies ain't my forte's in 40's for days
All day find me walkin' down Broadway
Broads hate on my broad ways
Everything I do they call fake
Everything I do don't they call fate
Pause, wait, chill
Me, myself, and I go in on everything that the God makes
But God's fake, I gotta say
I caught a break
If hell was real, I'd be on my way
I don't bag bitches, I drag bitches and bag critics
Tire mark and then spit it
Smack any pin head that give me a damn ticket
Get it?
See wrecks in every C section's C section
Any bitch that seems pregnant
Just a teen getting
Some shit out his head and
Some shit out his chest
And his face, ugh, pop pimples
Clumsy kid, drop cymbals
Drop symbols every time I got a pencil
Every time I rock simple, sling shot's to cops' temple
Cop temple's off the devil
Sold my soul, at least I've still got the mental

[Hook]

[Verse 3]
Manhattan
Africans' with Gucci, coofie's matchin'
Truly rappin' to ruggishly bootie's Giuli's baggin'
Clean up the city? Need to clean up Wiki's act then
Clean up Wiki's ass and I'll let then you catch him
That shit ain't hapennin', nah
Motherfucker do you realize what a craftin'...fuck it
Massacre the public, ain't a master of the subject
But I go in hard though, I ain't flashin' when I'm fuckin'
Raw, I ain't maskin' up the munchkin
MSG Carmello, now we dappin' when he dunkin'
MSG, that's the shit that they package in my dumplings
Said I'm stuck in New York, stuck rappin' in a dungeon
Well I'm really lovin' all the action in this dungeon
Ain't leavin' 'til I'm runnin' every faction of this dungeon
Five boroughs my boroughs, laughin' at assumptions
Feel like four or five 'bout to get assed out in corruption
Gettin' paid, but can't

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