Sean Price, Steele, Buckshot - Apartheid lyrics
[Sean Price, Steele, Buckshot - Apartheid lyrics]
I can't lose
The best MC in my hood, I can't choose
Worst MCs in my town, I can't prove
Never fight dude with white
Spikes on dance shoes the lame stuffer
Bang, deranged fucker
I walk bys and guys became chain tuckers
Make enemies, make friends
I make money, money make moves
In the state pen', p
This is my slot, rookie
Your snot box get rocked over Hydrox cookies
Slapbox niggas
Free can of soda with the snack box, nigga
The rest I can't tell ya
But catalog this shit as the best of Mandela
I tear apart gods
Separate head from neck and call it Apartheid
With the bloodclaat lick off a gunshot
Mafi play big shot shoot up them drug spot
Rude boy say fuck cop sean P and Buckshot
Buckshot, slugs fly
'Nough man a die for them tough talk
Tomahawk, these shots walk the walk
Llama spark, choppa bark
Box him up, cart him off
Leave, we are king of kings
Some say lord of lords
We spit the hardest bars
Draw your sword, mastered the art of war
If Ruck don't like you, Buck don't like you
Ruck down, duck down, what a nigga might do
Black moonwalk on 'em
Rest in peace to Michael
RIP phife from Tribe, he in the light too
Hip-hop heaven, you see seven, that's the god
All praises due to Allah, sun, moon, star
Some move bars, my nigga Ruck move cages
It's only one Buck, but I bust two gauges
Yeah, drive your bitch crazy
With my stick shift
Now she gassed up, wanna ride on my Clik dick
Groupie with an Uzi, nigga, shots after shot
But, I'm bulletproof, when I'm in the booth
Bombaclaat
Listen, if my nigga Ruck never said your name
Dead your claim, you with the fame
You with the lames
With the bloodclaat lick off a gunshot
Mafi play big shot shoot up them drug spot
Rude boy say fuck cop sean P and Buckshot
Buckshot, slugs fly
'Nough man a die for them tough talk
Tomahawk, these shots walk the walk
Llama spark, choppa bark
Box him up, cart him off
Leave, we are king of kings
Some say lord of lords
We spit the hardest bars
Draw your sword, mastered the art of war
Yeah, the most area typical
Great ape, say it to your face, no subliminal
Straight craze, fuckin' maniac, act cynical
Finish you, you's a little nigga
Raps minuscule
Fuck is wrong with these niggas?
What in your mind would make you think
I'd do a song with these niggas?
I know hitters, pimpers and killers
Lions, tigers, gorillas
Leave you tied up for a skrilla
Won't find you 'til next December
Salute to the foundin' fathers
That birthed you when you was little
And saved you from all the sorrow
They did it so we wouldn't have to do it
But we all want a taste, take a bite
Taste the fluid
Drew, knew it, paper, blew through it
Whole crew stupid bar fights, dark nights
But we all got through it (That's Boot Camp)
I'm my brother's keeper 'til
The day I'm sleepin'
Eat thy food, roll a tree
And put your feet up, apartheid
The best MC in my hood, I can't choose
Worst MCs in my town, I can't prove
Never fight dude with white
Spikes on dance shoes the lame stuffer
Bang, deranged fucker
I walk bys and guys became chain tuckers
Make enemies, make friends
I make money, money make moves
In the state pen', p
This is my slot, rookie
Your snot box get rocked over Hydrox cookies
Slapbox niggas
Free can of soda with the snack box, nigga
The rest I can't tell ya
But catalog this shit as the best of Mandela
I tear apart gods
Separate head from neck and call it Apartheid
With the bloodclaat lick off a gunshot
Mafi play big shot shoot up them drug spot
Rude boy say fuck cop sean P and Buckshot
Buckshot, slugs fly
'Nough man a die for them tough talk
Tomahawk, these shots walk the walk
Llama spark, choppa bark
Box him up, cart him off
Leave, we are king of kings
Some say lord of lords
We spit the hardest bars
Draw your sword, mastered the art of war
If Ruck don't like you, Buck don't like you
Ruck down, duck down, what a nigga might do
Black moonwalk on 'em
Rest in peace to Michael
RIP phife from Tribe, he in the light too
Hip-hop heaven, you see seven, that's the god
All praises due to Allah, sun, moon, star
Some move bars, my nigga Ruck move cages
It's only one Buck, but I bust two gauges
Yeah, drive your bitch crazy
With my stick shift
Now she gassed up, wanna ride on my Clik dick
Groupie with an Uzi, nigga, shots after shot
But, I'm bulletproof, when I'm in the booth
Bombaclaat
Listen, if my nigga Ruck never said your name
Dead your claim, you with the fame
You with the lames
With the bloodclaat lick off a gunshot
Mafi play big shot shoot up them drug spot
Rude boy say fuck cop sean P and Buckshot
Buckshot, slugs fly
'Nough man a die for them tough talk
Tomahawk, these shots walk the walk
Llama spark, choppa bark
Box him up, cart him off
Leave, we are king of kings
Some say lord of lords
We spit the hardest bars
Draw your sword, mastered the art of war
Yeah, the most area typical
Great ape, say it to your face, no subliminal
Straight craze, fuckin' maniac, act cynical
Finish you, you's a little nigga
Raps minuscule
Fuck is wrong with these niggas?
What in your mind would make you think
I'd do a song with these niggas?
I know hitters, pimpers and killers
Lions, tigers, gorillas
Leave you tied up for a skrilla
Won't find you 'til next December
Salute to the foundin' fathers
That birthed you when you was little
And saved you from all the sorrow
They did it so we wouldn't have to do it
But we all want a taste, take a bite
Taste the fluid
Drew, knew it, paper, blew through it
Whole crew stupid bar fights, dark nights
But we all got through it (That's Boot Camp)
I'm my brother's keeper 'til
The day I'm sleepin'
Eat thy food, roll a tree
And put your feet up, apartheid