Tommy Tee, Pops, Son Of Light - Son & Pops (No Studio No Time - The Wait ) lyrics

I'm mad hungry please, give me your take
In absolute forgiveness give me your break
(Got no food better hand me whatever
The fucks on your plate)
Now gimme some space I'm going
Hollywood give me a face
(Gimme some production skills
Nah that's way too late
Been having that shit man
But please, give me a raise) and please
Give me a taste of sweet life sufficient leg
(Don't gimme no hate
Please pass me that faith)
And god give me some grace
(And god get rid of the snakes)
And god show these fake Mcs their place
(yeah this is Norway buddy
Nuthin' 52nd state) man you lost in space
(And you lost in mistakes)
And your boss thinks your great
Like you frost with the flake
(You snorting the way on minimum wage)
How's that for living in a cage
(And how's that for living like a slave)
Old school like a motherfucker
(Hot tub face)
Walking through the barbershop like I'm
(Big Daddy Kane) walk up on the stage like
That dude's kinda brain
(No that dude's kinda lame buddy
Dude need some fame)
Those dudes got enough chain don't
Know where to aim
(And those corny motherfuckers must but
Be out they're fucking brains)
Even forty motherfuckers couldn't handle
What I gave
(And the forty motherfucker going
Out his fucking frame)

You don't know what the fuck we about
Son & Pops, Son & Pops loudmouf Son & Pops

Don't call me your brother
See I don't need siblings your not ghetto
Your not living in a government building
(But we about to make a killing
Doing it for the children
Working out the decade
After that I'm chilling)
Chilling (Chilling) '
Not gon have these doors like dealing
(But chilling
Knocking up these whores with no feelings)
You're kidding (Think I did it but I didn't
Thought you new
When I'm on the mic I'm bullshitting)
Better get in where you fit in
The messages are hidden the types to do the
Long range worldwide spitting
(And your is off trying to hide you feelings
Your fruit cakes is off
Dancing on the ceiling)
After the laughter the tears come spilling
(If you're asking for bastards
We're about to hurt your feelings)
Nasty disasters audience we grill us
(The '06 audio too we top building)

You see Opaque on the bed
On a chick ass like he baking the bread
Shaking her tit's and she resist
And he breaking the leg
Fry her ass like bacon and egg
Shit there even cake on the head