Percee P - Nowhere Near Simple | Текст песни

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• Percee P
• Nowhere Near Simple

Verse 1
I hit the cherry harder, I’m very tard of every part of my rhyme’s
Fine like Sherry Carter I have you no adversaries smarter
I’m not about the Glocks, but dress dapper, lyrics will just tap ya
Knock yo’ best rapper out the box
I bruise and batter, crews that scatter, that used to chatter
To aprove to the fools who's phatter
I win a course in the friend of yours, she’s in a cross
Leave ’em bloody like pads in your drawers for menopause
I’m dusting niggers, urgently need emergency surgery
Every word will leave third degree burns from combustion
When the P show, never get on before or after he flow
Amigo you know my estilo from recking Stretch & Bobbito
Your shit is wack and fertile, if your friend laugh
You need to skin grab, then chew him in half, just like a snapping turtle
Put your crew to rest, lyrics go through your vest, that you the best
So for you to test, you must be on Buddha cess

Chorus
I’m nowhere near simple (What?)
My mental (Cut) into (What?)
Niggas like a Ginsu

Verse 2
From the sound of it, I’m coming from the Boogie Down of shit
Where niggas are bound to flip, when you **** counterfeit
Hustling packing steel, acting ill, attack and kill
A person to snatch their bills, if they ain’t got the rapping skills
I knock hotties, rock block parties, where people carry Glock shotties
To drop bodies, when niggas got rowdy
Better renew your verse, your crew is the worst
Claiming what they can do to Perce and who’s the first, what
Flow is in thoughts perfect, I drop the hype, after I rock tonight
Watch the mic short circuit
Your whole life ya never heard a nigga more trifle
A flow nicer than me in no cipher
I’m like a wide screen, showing drama word to mama
When I rhyme I cause more trauma then a homicide scene
Forget cable, some kid ate who, me?
My shit fatal since the time I used to rhyme on hit tables

Chorus
I’m nowhere near simple (What?)
My mental (Cut) into (What?)
Niggas like a Ginsu

Verse 3
I got my rhyme through the creeping on niggas sleeping
And with a deacon to bless the souls of rappers I hit this weekend at the ****
Let’s have a word, request the nurse
Niggas can’t mess with Perce or possess the worst shit ever heard
Résumé, say I’m one of the best today
Want to display I suggest you play “Yes you may”
The phat nigga, flowing on the tracks, slicker
That rip the shit that make you rewind back quicker quote a rap to ya
Percee P wanted for first degree
Murder since you heard a verse from me, check it
Much props getting dough like corrupt cops and drug spots
Lyrics, let of buck shots in your mug hops
Keeps it real, techniques are ill, deep and skilled
Rappers reach for steel or wheels when they peep the grill

Chorus
I’m nowhere near simple (What?)
My mental (Cut) into (What?)
Niggas like a Ginsu

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