Statik Selektah, Joey Bada$$ - Slum Villain lyrics
Joey Badass [Jo-Vaughn Virginie Scott] Brooklyn, NY, U.S. 🇺🇸
[Statik Selektah, Joey Bada$$ - Slum Villain lyrics]
The truth is that which needs to be told
And true creation is that which
Needs to be created
(yeah, 1, 2, 1, 2 let's ride)
Slum villain slave to the page
Always keep my tongue spillin’
Now I spit the dope until
I get the numb feelin’
Tell me how them lungs feel
Runnin’ laps around the track
Tryna’ tread mills
Dollar bills can’t conceal the real deal
It’s still lyrical skill that will appeal
Shots fire at the will
I be in the field feelin’ ready to die
Been ready to kill plus I’m ready to
Ride for any one of my guys
Can’t look me in my eyes
Say I’m telling a lie
Head in the sky on the better side
I’m from the Bed Stuy
Where the homicide rate is
Getting pretty high if money my religion
Truth is better than my jeans
Probably spot the Buddha man
Picking through the seams
Met him at the banquet and hit the bank still
Jesus got the wheel, don’t take
The happiest days of my life
Were taken from me
Now I’m just a slave to the mic, wait hold up
I don’t think this chain fit me right
Got a couple loose screws
Now I write like my brain got swoll up
Swoll up
Like my brain got swoll up, swoll up
Like my brain got swoll up, swoll up
Like my brain got swoll up, swoll up
Super sperm and can you say New York City?
And can you say New York City?
Can you say New York City?
Can you save New York City?
Can you save New York City?
And can you save New York City?
And can you say New York City?
And can you say New York City?
Can you say New York City?
Can you save New York City?
Can you save New York City?
And can you save New York City?
And true creation is that which
Needs to be created
(yeah, 1, 2, 1, 2 let's ride)
Slum villain slave to the page
Always keep my tongue spillin’
Now I spit the dope until
I get the numb feelin’
Tell me how them lungs feel
Runnin’ laps around the track
Tryna’ tread mills
Dollar bills can’t conceal the real deal
It’s still lyrical skill that will appeal
Shots fire at the will
I be in the field feelin’ ready to die
Been ready to kill plus I’m ready to
Ride for any one of my guys
Can’t look me in my eyes
Say I’m telling a lie
Head in the sky on the better side
I’m from the Bed Stuy
Where the homicide rate is
Getting pretty high if money my religion
Truth is better than my jeans
Probably spot the Buddha man
Picking through the seams
Met him at the banquet and hit the bank still
Jesus got the wheel, don’t take
The happiest days of my life
Were taken from me
Now I’m just a slave to the mic, wait hold up
I don’t think this chain fit me right
Got a couple loose screws
Now I write like my brain got swoll up
Swoll up
Like my brain got swoll up, swoll up
Like my brain got swoll up, swoll up
Like my brain got swoll up, swoll up
Super sperm and can you say New York City?
And can you say New York City?
Can you say New York City?
Can you save New York City?
Can you save New York City?
And can you save New York City?
And can you say New York City?
And can you say New York City?
Can you say New York City?
Can you save New York City?
Can you save New York City?
And can you save New York City?