Max B - Revolution lyrics
[Max B - Revolution lyrics]
It's the revolution, baby
Oh, they televising this shit right now
(It's my boy Masar on the beat, DJ Elyes)
Life in the pen', never that
They came back for the base
We came with the better crack
I came to provide the people better tracks
The narratives I engage
Twenty years in the cage
Twenty years as a slave, ni-ni-nigga please
Hang me from bigger trees
Play me, my trigger squeeze
Ecstasy liquor chase, pay me or get the ease
Watching him plead his case spray
'em or get the cheese
How could you fuck with niggas
That been from the jump?
I got a drawer full of ammo
I got a sawed off pump
I got my niggas, I activate 'em
They come with a phone call
Bust at the opposition, he die
It's his own fault gambled your life, nigga
You reap what you sow
They send some killers to come and get me
I reach for the four
I signal left in the V like they
Ain't heard of the Don yet
Connections is overseas, murderous contacts
If it's a genie in the bottle
Then she better be a model
Got a dollar to my name
I'ma bet it on the lotto
We was playing in the sin
Now we playing in the wind
'Cause if I could do it over
I'ma do this shit again my nigga, please
I'll trade you my bitches for some weed
(Come on)
Sixty of some liquor, my music is a disease
Nigga, freeze, put your hands where I can see
They were fed the wrong description
And it wasn't even me
I go soft, I go hard
Take a look at all my scars
Frederick Douglas, Adam Clayton
Malcolm X Boulevard
I ain't never pull the trigger
Sipping brown sugar liquor
Even mama call me bigger, make
My money, say it, nigga
All the women, all the weed
Watermelon spitting seeds
And these bitches not my children
Feel neglected bowing down, spit the grit
In my town, this the shit this a gift
Yeah, this a gift yeah, this a hit
Now every single time that the
Police come for a nigga
I gotta run and take cover
They tryna gun for a nigga
They wanna kill us in cold blood
Leave us in bloody streets
The prophecy I fulfill top of the money reach
Choppers, we gon' conceal, pockets is on E
And every time I drop
I'm the hottest thing on the streets
(Hottest thing, baby)
We was looting, niggas tried
And I had a of hell of a team
But a couple niggas died
And we was in no Gucci stores
Couple niggas buy it
Some hammers and DVDs, couple of 'em fried
The witnesses on the stand
Couple of 'em lied
They want me to take a plea
Some pull up and hide
The Bentley pull up and swerve
Some pull up and glide
She fuck with them BNBs, I look at the sky
Them fuckers they think could see me
I pull out the nine
Leave them fuckers nice and dreamy and
Send 'em up to die
I go soft, I go hard
Take a look at all my scars
Frederick Douglas, Adam Clayton
Malcolm X Boulevard
I ain't never pull the trigger
Sipping brown sugar liquor
Even mama call me bigger, make
My money, say it, nigga
All the women, all the weed
Watermelon spitting seeds
And these bitches not my children
Feel neglected bowing down, spit the grit
In my town, this the shit this a gift
Yeah, this a gift yeah, this a hit
I don't know about all that shit
This ain't no hit
Nigga, this for the streets
For your motherfucking mind
Boss Don, Negro Spirituals gotta love it
Ow
Oh, they televising this shit right now
(It's my boy Masar on the beat, DJ Elyes)
Life in the pen', never that
They came back for the base
We came with the better crack
I came to provide the people better tracks
The narratives I engage
Twenty years in the cage
Twenty years as a slave, ni-ni-nigga please
Hang me from bigger trees
Play me, my trigger squeeze
Ecstasy liquor chase, pay me or get the ease
Watching him plead his case spray
'em or get the cheese
How could you fuck with niggas
That been from the jump?
I got a drawer full of ammo
I got a sawed off pump
I got my niggas, I activate 'em
They come with a phone call
Bust at the opposition, he die
It's his own fault gambled your life, nigga
You reap what you sow
They send some killers to come and get me
I reach for the four
I signal left in the V like they
Ain't heard of the Don yet
Connections is overseas, murderous contacts
If it's a genie in the bottle
Then she better be a model
Got a dollar to my name
I'ma bet it on the lotto
We was playing in the sin
Now we playing in the wind
'Cause if I could do it over
I'ma do this shit again my nigga, please
I'll trade you my bitches for some weed
(Come on)
Sixty of some liquor, my music is a disease
Nigga, freeze, put your hands where I can see
They were fed the wrong description
And it wasn't even me
I go soft, I go hard
Take a look at all my scars
Frederick Douglas, Adam Clayton
Malcolm X Boulevard
I ain't never pull the trigger
Sipping brown sugar liquor
Even mama call me bigger, make
My money, say it, nigga
All the women, all the weed
Watermelon spitting seeds
And these bitches not my children
Feel neglected bowing down, spit the grit
In my town, this the shit this a gift
Yeah, this a gift yeah, this a hit
Now every single time that the
Police come for a nigga
I gotta run and take cover
They tryna gun for a nigga
They wanna kill us in cold blood
Leave us in bloody streets
The prophecy I fulfill top of the money reach
Choppers, we gon' conceal, pockets is on E
And every time I drop
I'm the hottest thing on the streets
(Hottest thing, baby)
We was looting, niggas tried
And I had a of hell of a team
But a couple niggas died
And we was in no Gucci stores
Couple niggas buy it
Some hammers and DVDs, couple of 'em fried
The witnesses on the stand
Couple of 'em lied
They want me to take a plea
Some pull up and hide
The Bentley pull up and swerve
Some pull up and glide
She fuck with them BNBs, I look at the sky
Them fuckers they think could see me
I pull out the nine
Leave them fuckers nice and dreamy and
Send 'em up to die
I go soft, I go hard
Take a look at all my scars
Frederick Douglas, Adam Clayton
Malcolm X Boulevard
I ain't never pull the trigger
Sipping brown sugar liquor
Even mama call me bigger, make
My money, say it, nigga
All the women, all the weed
Watermelon spitting seeds
And these bitches not my children
Feel neglected bowing down, spit the grit
In my town, this the shit this a gift
Yeah, this a gift yeah, this a hit
I don't know about all that shit
This ain't no hit
Nigga, this for the streets
For your motherfucking mind
Boss Don, Negro Spirituals gotta love it
Ow