Black Milk, Slum Village - Action lyrics
[Black Milk, Slum Village - Action lyrics]
This is a Black Milk Presentation
Ride with us, this how we do it
T3 my nigga what up family (ha)
Elzhi my nigga what up family
Baatin my nigga what up fam
In a lam lam we ran so hand me my Grammy
No competition, none iller
Throw them hands to the air
Errol Flynn to the ceiling
Don't earl, take a cup then fill it
Pour out a little liquor
Toast to my nigga Dilla
Still in it, still reppin' the cause
To put the D on my back
Like a shirt that I bought
Turn and I walk, you see it's all nothing
We money hungry, all eat
Pocket's got big stomachs
Pockets got big money on the grind
No sleep, gotta keep the alarm clock running
Never leave you alone
My squad's not budging'
They all hide from us like camouflage colors
Time, time for some action, action
We bringing it back, going back son
Back some 'Tin where you at
I'm right here, son
Then show these niggas where they
Got their style from
(I can't understand a word of this verse)
Time, time for some action, action
We bringing it back, going back son, back son
El where you at i'm right here, Black
Then show these niggas where the rhymes at
Put up a hundred grand and think I
Won't demolish any son of man
I have 'em feeling like a villain
When his gun is jammed
You seen death, swing the right
Then you lean left we battle
You swear you seen death in between breaths
I travel through sound and
Dance on the melody
No wonder why they hailing me the
King of the spelling bee
You just picking up steam, I spit heat
There's no difference than the one
Used for sticking up teams
There's no escaping the flow
From the older Jason
Rapping circles around clowns like
I'm roller skating
El is a threat and hailed as a vet
Sipping Louis XI I I, you just excel to Moet
Hand out the window dropping
Shells on your set, this is murder rap
I live for niggas
Get shot off how they turn they caps
Born crazy
The children of the corn raised me
In the killer fields
Villa gills with deformed babies
Ladies I'm tearing in, think I'm marrying
Necking in my million dollar dream
House with the aquarium
Man listen you a rendition
Of a hoe in transition, man kissing
Never stand pissing
Time, time for some action, action
We bringing it back, going back son, back son
3 where you at i'm Right here, son
Then show these niggas where
The flow came from
The Villa fam and yeah, Black's my man
See them little niggas we finna
Get rid of really fast
Think you've heard the best of the
Slum and haven't heard the last
Speaking' of Dilla
Me and my niggas holdin' Dilla flags
Dilla's still one of the illest that
Did it in the past
Menace to niggas whenever niggas'
Fingers hit the pads can't see us
Beat us or fleet us I'm running on the tracks
Flowing with it till I finish
I'm doing multiple laps
Matter of fact I smack these cats
They ain't scratch
And totally amaze myself I'm spectac-
Ular I spit that raw I go third
Or Tre, or anything else except for Herb
Y'all did now y'all done let
Me and my mans merge it's the Villa
High puffing the realest of experts
Planning my birth to resurrect
Like Jesus In church
Rushin the tempo through momento i spill
It on the track son
Time, time for some action, action
We bringing it back, going back son, back son
We the last ones, don't get mad son
Give it up, it's a wrap oNE!
Ride with us, this how we do it
T3 my nigga what up family (ha)
Elzhi my nigga what up family
Baatin my nigga what up fam
In a lam lam we ran so hand me my Grammy
No competition, none iller
Throw them hands to the air
Errol Flynn to the ceiling
Don't earl, take a cup then fill it
Pour out a little liquor
Toast to my nigga Dilla
Still in it, still reppin' the cause
To put the D on my back
Like a shirt that I bought
Turn and I walk, you see it's all nothing
We money hungry, all eat
Pocket's got big stomachs
Pockets got big money on the grind
No sleep, gotta keep the alarm clock running
Never leave you alone
My squad's not budging'
They all hide from us like camouflage colors
Time, time for some action, action
We bringing it back, going back son
Back some 'Tin where you at
I'm right here, son
Then show these niggas where they
Got their style from
(I can't understand a word of this verse)
Time, time for some action, action
We bringing it back, going back son, back son
El where you at i'm right here, Black
Then show these niggas where the rhymes at
Put up a hundred grand and think I
Won't demolish any son of man
I have 'em feeling like a villain
When his gun is jammed
You seen death, swing the right
Then you lean left we battle
You swear you seen death in between breaths
I travel through sound and
Dance on the melody
No wonder why they hailing me the
King of the spelling bee
You just picking up steam, I spit heat
There's no difference than the one
Used for sticking up teams
There's no escaping the flow
From the older Jason
Rapping circles around clowns like
I'm roller skating
El is a threat and hailed as a vet
Sipping Louis XI I I, you just excel to Moet
Hand out the window dropping
Shells on your set, this is murder rap
I live for niggas
Get shot off how they turn they caps
Born crazy
The children of the corn raised me
In the killer fields
Villa gills with deformed babies
Ladies I'm tearing in, think I'm marrying
Necking in my million dollar dream
House with the aquarium
Man listen you a rendition
Of a hoe in transition, man kissing
Never stand pissing
Time, time for some action, action
We bringing it back, going back son, back son
3 where you at i'm Right here, son
Then show these niggas where
The flow came from
The Villa fam and yeah, Black's my man
See them little niggas we finna
Get rid of really fast
Think you've heard the best of the
Slum and haven't heard the last
Speaking' of Dilla
Me and my niggas holdin' Dilla flags
Dilla's still one of the illest that
Did it in the past
Menace to niggas whenever niggas'
Fingers hit the pads can't see us
Beat us or fleet us I'm running on the tracks
Flowing with it till I finish
I'm doing multiple laps
Matter of fact I smack these cats
They ain't scratch
And totally amaze myself I'm spectac-
Ular I spit that raw I go third
Or Tre, or anything else except for Herb
Y'all did now y'all done let
Me and my mans merge it's the Villa
High puffing the realest of experts
Planning my birth to resurrect
Like Jesus In church
Rushin the tempo through momento i spill
It on the track son
Time, time for some action, action
We bringing it back, going back son, back son
We the last ones, don't get mad son
Give it up, it's a wrap oNE!