One Two

One time for the hustlers, everyday block hodgers
By any means necessary, out to get that money
Even if they on crotches
Tryina ride foreigns, coupes instead of city buses
Yeah and two times for the greens
That keep entire green when they king in the bing
Hold a nigga down like a thousand pound inkle briskey
When that love is real, the groupie can’t replace it
Nah, make you feel it from the front
So you can see where I’m from, before I tell you what I want
And I want it all
I spit summer heat all through the winter
Cause when I spring to the top, I don’t wanna fall
Harlem in this bitch, rip big l
Brooklyn in this bitch, rip big as well
Endoubt to the studio, I bump like ...
They walk in the booth and kill shit right after

One time for the guns, one time for the butter
We spread it like park cake
One time for the hunters, one time for the prey that’s runnin
One time for the prey that almost got away
Two times for the rappers, two times for the singers
Two times for the players, two times for the bringers
The stringers that be dodginge the wires
It’s ... and they coming with the...say
They say you fuckin up the game,
You square...you, ain’t no subliminals
But wear it if you fit the shoe
That sort of shoot, that these rappers try to be natural
When my atribute give me all type of accolades when I’m passing through
I got drop, whippin is so priceless, don’t need your permission
A new york nigga with no license
Tunning must submit that you acolyte
Buck false honesty, better than false modesty

One time for my thug niggas that smartest submerge
One time for my hood them is invading them burbs
Two times for them motherfuckers, is hating on nerve
Tell em bot on the curve
Two times for the urge, when they working my nerves
Put your money where your mouth is nigga and change your words
Up in here with the curb, and ain’t nobody scared
We runnin through the city like represent and divert
Pick a side, any side, it’s like a warzone
The televize beef to let you know the words on
I see shots numb niggas like corthizon
They be acting hard, but your body lacks the corizon
Mj’s like I’m playin on the chord alone
Cause they style’s dumb, like trippin over a cordless phone
I said hang em up with that same chord
Just for actin like they don’t know what a brain’s for, nigga!

Beliebteste Lieder von Talib Kweli

Andere Künstler von Hip Hop/Rap