Esham - Superstitious lyrics
[Esham - Superstitious lyrics]
It ain't nothin'
The last temptation but I'm not David Ruffin
I give you all the game
so you know I'm not a glutton
I want the roof off
So I just push the button
These young niggas got swag
They say I must stop
'Cause, I'm peelin' off in the coupe
You at the bus stop if Cardi B bartendin'
Give me two of those shots
And I know what the truth is and what's not
But back to this hip hop shit
Let's keep it in perspective
If you ain't part of the solution
You part of the collective
When it comes to rockin' beats
You should be more selective
I guess if you knew that
You wouldn't make those wack records
Suspect, police say that I
Fit the description?
I wasn't gettin' high, officer
That's just my prescription
I don't know why you pulled me
Over in my whip and
You ain't have to give me a ticket
You trippin'
He made me wait, I told this pig I got a date
I gotta pick my baby up, I can't be late
He brought me back my license
Told me I was straight
Told me have a nice day, now I'm on my way
Hey baby, I bounce and skate
I'm right back to it
I guess it ain't what you do
But how you do it
Down on your knees like your opportunities
You blew it ran through the side door
Grab the microphone, i flow like fluid
Tell these little rappers I'm already paid
I ain't gotta make no money
It's already made
I'm rockin' heads like barber shops, boy
You'll catch a fade
I'm from Detroit like Icewood, Blade
Six in the mornin', the cops run they raid
Heard 'em bustin' through the
Bars and the barricade
You was sellin' crack on the east side
Block promenade
Got caught with two keys, now
You on the streets, and I'm afraid
Chef in that kitchen, steady pitchin'
Niggas snitchin'
My intuition smellin' police, I'm suspicious
You listen 'cause I'm vicious
You don't see my vision
I spit it suicidal, that's just my decision
I wake up in the mornin'
Thinkin' 'bout that paper
Tryin' to stack it tall as a Dubai skyscraper
They want me fallin' down to meet my maker
But, I'm standin' up tall, fuck y'all, die
Haters