Above the Law - Apocalypse Now lyrics
[Above the Law - Apocalypse Now lyrics]
This year is to drop, ten years of calm
What we strived, to innovate it
You know what I'm sayin?
Four scores and seven years ago
The homies that I know figured out
How we can get paid of that gangster flow
True in that breakin' the whores
With that Rap shit
Fuck that jack shit, benefittin' nothin'
Givin' the world a little somethin'
My comrades on the block still duckin'
Pumpin' the junkies with that Killa Cali'
Flippin' a quater to a half, see
Bird was the word
They kicked that attitude into the industry
I never knew that my Cap was old Chavy
I only have fates, and two are my players
Mr 187Um or Mr glock K-Oss
Were all you niggas hear our shit?
Then other fools came benefit it
Believin' in the managers but
They were just strangers
Didn't let us know about
The paper workin' danger
Rules in the land of shiesty
Hookers they came fiesty
People said we was on the winnin' team
Peelin' the grip
And it wasn't just a pipe dream
And we still chill blowin' that hell of steam
So you know shake the spot
Because it ain't right be chillin'
Where them hookers and panties be droppin'
Got a letter in the mail
Said the west wasn't true
Sold a million records, so thank you
Player hatin, on while we still innovatin
Pushin' records across the nation
So apocalypse with a pack of the clips
Here we got a beef
So I think you better worry
Now, I'ma free their minds
And free their souls
It ain't nothin' but the bomb
Shit comin' on sole
Y'all, a little somethin' for
Them player haters
Who think they got flavor like Nam' Laters
They'll get popped, mobbed, dropped
Spit out, it's kind of hard to speak
With the tech all in their your mouths
We do them just like the old days
They got beef with the crew
They got it raised, to get sprayed
It's like that all day, always
I'll be true to this shit 'til my grave
Yeah, Gangster Rap made America
Checked her neck
Yo, when change the whole contexts
Because, I went from dope dealin'
To makin' millions legal
Only me and Meegos, yeah
In ten years in makin' notes
Still got the same Limo
And got the same Benzo
Keep it funky at the gangster bate
G'd up, put it down with the gang fate
Yeah, it like my mamma used to say:
If you go in like that
You'll go out the same way
That's why I always be myself
Cause, I get no respect
Tryin' to be somebody else
And that's realer than the
Realist homies I know
You might as well patch your face right
Rap at the Sight Show or be a $10 whore
Cause there ain't no level allow
You just might go
Don't come around, I'ma clown
Cause, I got more macks than Dann
When I get down
What we strived, to innovate it
You know what I'm sayin?
Four scores and seven years ago
The homies that I know figured out
How we can get paid of that gangster flow
True in that breakin' the whores
With that Rap shit
Fuck that jack shit, benefittin' nothin'
Givin' the world a little somethin'
My comrades on the block still duckin'
Pumpin' the junkies with that Killa Cali'
Flippin' a quater to a half, see
Bird was the word
They kicked that attitude into the industry
I never knew that my Cap was old Chavy
I only have fates, and two are my players
Mr 187Um or Mr glock K-Oss
Were all you niggas hear our shit?
Then other fools came benefit it
Believin' in the managers but
They were just strangers
Didn't let us know about
The paper workin' danger
Rules in the land of shiesty
Hookers they came fiesty
People said we was on the winnin' team
Peelin' the grip
And it wasn't just a pipe dream
And we still chill blowin' that hell of steam
So you know shake the spot
Because it ain't right be chillin'
Where them hookers and panties be droppin'
Got a letter in the mail
Said the west wasn't true
Sold a million records, so thank you
Player hatin, on while we still innovatin
Pushin' records across the nation
So apocalypse with a pack of the clips
Here we got a beef
So I think you better worry
Now, I'ma free their minds
And free their souls
It ain't nothin' but the bomb
Shit comin' on sole
Y'all, a little somethin' for
Them player haters
Who think they got flavor like Nam' Laters
They'll get popped, mobbed, dropped
Spit out, it's kind of hard to speak
With the tech all in their your mouths
We do them just like the old days
They got beef with the crew
They got it raised, to get sprayed
It's like that all day, always
I'll be true to this shit 'til my grave
Yeah, Gangster Rap made America
Checked her neck
Yo, when change the whole contexts
Because, I went from dope dealin'
To makin' millions legal
Only me and Meegos, yeah
In ten years in makin' notes
Still got the same Limo
And got the same Benzo
Keep it funky at the gangster bate
G'd up, put it down with the gang fate
Yeah, it like my mamma used to say:
If you go in like that
You'll go out the same way
That's why I always be myself
Cause, I get no respect
Tryin' to be somebody else
And that's realer than the
Realist homies I know
You might as well patch your face right
Rap at the Sight Show or be a $10 whore
Cause there ain't no level allow
You just might go
Don't come around, I'ma clown
Cause, I got more macks than Dann
When I get down