Reks ft Lil Fame - All In One (5 Mics) | Текст песни

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• Reks ft Lil Fame
• All In One (5 Mics)

[Lil' Fame]
Let's take it back to that real hip hop shit
Bring back. . . the spirit of Pac, Biggie, Pun, Big L
All in one
I introduce y’all to my nigga:
Reks! Come on!

[Reks]
This is historic rhetoric from the one R-E-K-S
Reborn through legends, giving a new breath to lungs
Spirit of Pun, L, Big, Makaveli the Don
(Lil' Fame: The flow timeless, salute to 5 hands!)
To hip hop honors greats too late
So on this tape I recreate what heaven took from us
Passion of Pac, the swag of anything Biggie drop
Big L’s non-stop shit on you talk
And Big Pun with the deli delivery that’ll lyrically
Top Super Lyrical, Ebonics I’m giving you
Kick in the Door, this Strictly 4 My N.I.G.G.A.Z
Who listen to the greatest to write on 5 mics
(Lil' Fame: This is a representation of warriors monumental, follow me
Set it off for Pac!)

The revolution is on in this song, so holla Westside (Feel me!)
Pac’s like definition of a thug nigga that’s right
And to my enemies, get down on your knees
‘Cause if it’s beef we gon’ ride, Hail Mary!
If there’s a heaven for a G, picture me sippin’ Hennessy with B.I.G, Pun, L and Pac (ha-ha)
Up on the clouds on the block looking down Mama smile I know you proud of me now
I’m a O.G.! And to my homies don’t cry ‘cos we do or die pour a little O.E (Yeah nigga!)
Fuck the police! (fuck all y’all), on these streets
It’s Me Against the World, M.O.P

(Blow it up for Biggie Smalls)
The glorious Notorious, (Brooklyn nigga!)
Dead on trigger, (lift ya)
May you rest in pieces, your entourage tour with Jesus, Gucci fly
Mafioso Don with the Bad Boy logo, palm grippin' the Dom Pérignon (what)
Moschino buying, private jet flying
I’m like the black Frank White, ‘cause my game’s tight (right)
Brands and spokesmen strolling and get a bitch open
Hopin' I’ma hit her with the Trojan
Keep a box by the Glock on the dresser
Lifestyles to apply pressure, baby baby

(BX! Salute to Big Pun, come on. . .)
Punisher's ready, I got the machete in a Chevy
With the pistol as heavy as Heavy D, lyrics heavenly
Metaphors and melodies show you how to be a player like Bill Bellamy (ah shit)
My niggas known for felonies
Boogie Down New York the ground that I walk
Find you in the dark surround you with hawks
Act like you in charge (yo yo yo)
Terror is the squad, I’m a lethal mathematician
Adding up the cash, you're fishing
Rappers missing, poetry that so proficient
Known as the dopest written, vocal spitting
Rolling with the Puerto Rican coalition
All the focus missing, ¡pana!
You can't match my grammar, Scarface face like Montana
Test Pun and miss the manana

(We ‘bout to take it uptown, Harlem world, Big L, salute!)
Big L was D.I.T.C.'s truest
Been between more sheets than Klu Klux
Your rapper Big L would give two fucks
Ya ho love me too much
Never seen her grill without my two nuts
American gangster, Frank Lucas
You got the "how could he?" bling
I rock the "what's poppin' now?" ring
Money longer than Yao Ming
The Harlem City cat, with the hard gritty raps
You be all yappity-yap, my dogs really clap
I’ve got the fly gear and I like to fly Lears
All across states got your bitch payin’ my fares
Chill with the idea anybody compares
Nobody comes near, Big L, oh yeah

[Lil' Fame]

What up, what up
Statik Selektah, show off, show off
Their nigga Reks, their nigga Reks, their nigga Reks
Show off, show off yeah
Blaze P, Blaze P, Blaze P
Show off, show off
Ya nigga Fame, Ya nigga Fame, nigga Fame
Show off, show off
To the homies ride with me, look for my shit soon yeah

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