Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Therapy , by - Masta Killa. Release date: 26.01.2017
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Therapy |
| The first fresh thoughts of the day are so clear |
| When I walk, in my head, there’s a voice that talks |
| In my ear I can hear so clear, you think I’m buggin', right? |
| I’m just contemplating the silent, holla for this |
| Out to the West Side my killer Cali gangstas ride and get they head right |
| Yo, son, I’m on the next flight in |
| Twist somethin' tight, I’m guaranteed to write a hit song before we reach |
| Throw the instrumental on and watch this word pattern of speech |
| Men form, military armed, ready to swarm, get your party on |
| Drinks on the house tonight, ladies lookin' right |
| Atmosphere nice and warm, we backstage like a hundred thieves strong |
| Ghost want the red light on before we get on |
| An hour’s too short to rock, we got a million songs |
| Oh yeah, this real nice right here Kill Kill |
| Oh yeah? |
| Oh yeah, I’m feelin' this one right here |
| Yeah |
| Okay |
| So it’s my turn to sit in the chair? |
| Indeed, my brother |
| Aight, let’s go (Haha) |
| Yo, I gotta be around this music, it’s therapeutic |
| Light my first blunt of the day to start the movement |
| I’m sittin' in the room with a view, there’s always room for improvement |
| So I grab my coat and go and prove it |
| Just me against the world, you can find me in the streets |
| She’ll spot me in the lobby, probably find me in the free |
| Cop a 'Rari, the lobby in the linin' of my seats |
| Tryna put me in a lineup 'til I wind up in the beast |
| That’s the belly, how dare they try to tell me when to eat |
| With a plate of food barely in my reach |
| My team shoot dice, we used to shoot skelly in the streets |
| Wear the same Pelle-Pelle's for a week |
| But now we livin' life |
| It’s such a good life I wish that I could live it twice |
| I’d probably make the same wiz my wife |
| It’s Wu-Tang Clan, always collect cheddar |
| Proper education, always correct errors |
| Killa house in the buildin' |
| You all ready, nigga? |
| Hey yo, peace to my brothers from |
| Yes sir, nigga |
| Good lookin', nigga |
| Yo, bananas, Redman so gorilla |
| Chi-town know I’m pimpin' the mic, nigga |
| One hit, and chicks follow me like Twitter |
| Crack when I talk, I like the mic stem up |
| The fiends hit it, chicks swing with it |
| I’ll box niggas in like Don King did it |
| Sixteens I write, it’s seems so vivid |
| My notebooks I’m lettin' eBay bid it |
| I get dough, bad pair for the sick flow |
| My weed more greener than Lou Ferrigno |
| My right-hand man hand on the pistol |
| I crack these squares up like Nabisco |
| Oh, look at me, I’m lightweight |
| But with the heart to peel back your white meat |
| Yo wifey want me to make her wifey |
| Hit it, make the bitch hyphy at high speed |
| Doc |