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Da Beatminerz - Drama lyrics
f/ Shades of Brooklyn [Wild Son talking] Yea yea Wild Son, Wilson Ave Shades of Brooklyn motherfuckers Beatminerz, check this shit out here Check it.. [Wild Son] Columbus thought the earth was flat I copped the map, to navigate on track Reprocussions don't buy Black - false allegations I rush through nations like some Haitians Since my incubation I been destined for this paper Timbs scraper, fly shape up, got my weight up Laugh at haters, smack 'em now, kill 'em later Small Soldiers, action figures in motion pictures You read off scripts, and for the feds gave tips Icebergs sank ships, Shades load up clips Cock back the four-fifths then continue to spit {*two gunshots* Blow ya neck off, ya specs lost, respect black to the boss Get those hands chopped off, for thinkin I'm soft I'm quite well of course - many feet with this rhyme technique Beat off the heat with an ear to the streets nigga Word life motherfucker Wilson Ave, handcock, Wild Son motherfuckers [Wilson Ave] Now you know what type of shit I'm on I feed on the broke, the poor, and the weak-n-sore I defeated all these tribes and the gangs I'm that number one killa, DRAMA! [Wild Son] Y'all niggas can't fuck with this Black mongol slave, Pastor Gray, low c's and no feds, it's time to get paid Hold the hand grenade with the pin in my mouth - issued army So when you come to get me kill off everybody Escaped from a trapped room, my hood is Beirut The buds recruit, while all the guards, crackers was true Good health and wealth, for cheddar cheese as green as dough melt Some cried some died from the pain that's felt Why fight? Why fuss? That's what the want from us But if it's love that's lost, then there's no more trust With that fake love, that cause to get your brain straight plugged Gun held snubbed, seen your fams and gave 'em a hug Did I see you? Nah, I wouldn't wanna be 'em Sort as wounds treat 'em - deep in foundation Best believe that's how I leave 'em [Wilson Ave] Ain't no cure for this - what I suffer from is mentally I got drama with one, drama with these hoes Shit I even got drama with this finger And I'ma damn sure die with it, forever havin drama Since birth I've seen it everywhere New York, Houston, St. Louis, even Kansas City What cha'll know about that [Wild Son] Competition, there is none, fuck with Black and get done Pack guns, gat-lers, rockin all the latest fashions You gotta love me, for being young, black, and hungry Considered ugly, but since this money wanted to plug me I keep it humble, speak to myself so call me Mumbles Move some Buddu's, until the deez rush through Or maybe touch you, cats wanted two from the crew This shit is tense, you out the fence, you even lost one shoe Ran a marathon even though the cops ass won Shit was on, rapper we get it be gone Meet you at the stash crib, twelve blocks from where you live Don't say shit, even turn your wife and your kids Daddy's on the run now, all alone with low reprise No cries now, the way a real nigga gets down Facin death, stealin somebody's life's called theft Black know's best, this even go's for the opposite sex No regrets, I did what I did, ah from the whip Kids think sick, pack big shit, extended clips Motherfuckers, yea yea Get it all, bring it on what [Wilson Ave] There's three types of drama One that gives drama, one that recieves drama And one that watches drama Sometimes the outcome you wouldn't believe Don't sit there and front like you never felt it Maybe just that the wrong nigga sent it So when you find yourself afraid, frightened Fearin for your life, pray I'm not after you DRAMA! [Wild Son] Motherfucker, Shades of Brooklyn Ya get caught, get'cha motherfuckin life tooken Bitch ass niggas, Wild Son, Wilson Ave You handcock homo, we hand water and rocks nigga Sharper Side on the beats, ya heard Serious up in here.. |
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