Evidence - Tip the Scale lyrics
[Evidence - Tip the Scale lyrics]
(DJ Skee)
That's right, this is The Layover mixtape
DJ Skee, Evidence
Y'all muthafuckas know what it is
History in the making
I told y'all muthafuckas
I'm only dropping classics
Ev, what you got to say?
Yeah, never drawn on what I earn
No tone ain't been done that I can't learn
Patterns, eh, really ain't concerned
Feel the person who's speaking with words
Sometimes speaking in third
You mighta heard your favorite
Plus to minus, maybe it's her
Maybe it's him, maybe it's them
Try to never say never rappin'
Except, nah, I never let it happen
That's like Blink without Travis
Jim Jones with no ad-libs
I think I mighta had it
I might tip the scale
So jaded, not afraid to fail
No such thing as days you age well
What do you believe in: heaven or hell?
It's still dogs retrievin' the mail
A runaway train derailed
And I run LA, you can thank me
I kept hip-hop alive, you can thank me
Back, back to LA and
I'm the muthafuckin' king
Westside, the crack music, I trap music
Back, back to LA
And I'm the muthafuckin' king
Back, back to LA
Now what the fuck a nigga gotta say?
I made crack, crack music, I trap music
I said it, now who gon' dead it?
My cell phone stays on roam
I mean Rome, Italy, literally, that's my home
Maybe further south, where it's word of mouth
Never heard of a drought
I smoke 'til my purchase gone
Put my Oakleys on then took 'em off
I like the world better seeing it raw
I'm on a world tour, award tour
Got framed a whore for
Check the YouTube and store for it
More in store, less on deck
That's forward toward the left
I put on for my city, no voice or Beck's
No choice, postdate the check
I'll be hopin' the best
Money still comes and goes
It's funny, with it, your
Day's sunny, with none, one never knows
Do one, and who gonna be next?
Who win the lottery and who meet death?
And I run LA, you can thank me
I kept hip-hop alive, you can thank me
Back, back to LA now
I'm the muthafuckin' king
Westside, the crack music, I trap music
Back, back to LA
Now I'm the muthafuckin' king
Back, back to LA
Now what the fuck a nigga gotta say?
I made crack, crack music, I trap music
I said it, now who gon' dead it?
That's right, this is The Layover mixtape
DJ Skee, Evidence
Y'all muthafuckas know what it is
History in the making
I told y'all muthafuckas
I'm only dropping classics
Ev, what you got to say?
Yeah, never drawn on what I earn
No tone ain't been done that I can't learn
Patterns, eh, really ain't concerned
Feel the person who's speaking with words
Sometimes speaking in third
You mighta heard your favorite
Plus to minus, maybe it's her
Maybe it's him, maybe it's them
Try to never say never rappin'
Except, nah, I never let it happen
That's like Blink without Travis
Jim Jones with no ad-libs
I think I mighta had it
I might tip the scale
So jaded, not afraid to fail
No such thing as days you age well
What do you believe in: heaven or hell?
It's still dogs retrievin' the mail
A runaway train derailed
And I run LA, you can thank me
I kept hip-hop alive, you can thank me
Back, back to LA and
I'm the muthafuckin' king
Westside, the crack music, I trap music
Back, back to LA
And I'm the muthafuckin' king
Back, back to LA
Now what the fuck a nigga gotta say?
I made crack, crack music, I trap music
I said it, now who gon' dead it?
My cell phone stays on roam
I mean Rome, Italy, literally, that's my home
Maybe further south, where it's word of mouth
Never heard of a drought
I smoke 'til my purchase gone
Put my Oakleys on then took 'em off
I like the world better seeing it raw
I'm on a world tour, award tour
Got framed a whore for
Check the YouTube and store for it
More in store, less on deck
That's forward toward the left
I put on for my city, no voice or Beck's
No choice, postdate the check
I'll be hopin' the best
Money still comes and goes
It's funny, with it, your
Day's sunny, with none, one never knows
Do one, and who gonna be next?
Who win the lottery and who meet death?
And I run LA, you can thank me
I kept hip-hop alive, you can thank me
Back, back to LA now
I'm the muthafuckin' king
Westside, the crack music, I trap music
Back, back to LA
Now I'm the muthafuckin' king
Back, back to LA
Now what the fuck a nigga gotta say?
I made crack, crack music, I trap music
I said it, now who gon' dead it?