Lyrics Hands In The Air - 8Ball

Hands In The Air

Okay;
comin' from the top of my
Dome when I’m droppin' my
Own type of style, and
Ain’t nobody stoppin' my
Rise to the very top
Hit 'em up wit' all I got
Superstar;
no I’m not
Green weed;
black Glock
Everybody want a piece
Dirty like a pair 'a cleats
Niggas run their mouth a lot
Like bitches and parakeets
(whoa) How you want it pimpin'?
(whoa) I’m so cold wit' it
(whoa) Make all the boys wanna do it just because I did it
I’m like a legend or
Some kind of prophecy
Sent here to set you free
Dress, player, follow me
Into another world
Deep inside your own soul
This shit here way bigger than tattoos and cornrows
This not 'bout makin' dough
Not 'bout no fakin' yo
Not 'bout who’s rich 'o po'
Not 'bout who niggas know
This here 'bout you and me
This here 'bout poetry
This here 'bout who we be
If you in here with me
Keep your ears wide open
This is all real no jokin'
Throw your motherfuckin' hands up in the air
If you feel me throw your hands up in the air
Better keep your ears open
This is all real no boastin'
Throw your hands up in the motherfuckin' air
If you feel me throw your hands up in the air
The motherfuckin' aaaaair
Nigga you don’t know me
Why you niggas wanna beef?
All in my grill like
You the papparazzi
Boy I was fulla game
Way before this rap thang
Real 'fore the money came
That’s why I will never change
Me, ain’t nobody like
Even though they try to be
Niggas think they are but they ain’t fuckin' with me lyric’ly
(Yo) I was born wit' it
Din’t nobody teach it to me
Over hot beat
Tell you 'bout what the streets did to me
(Yo) Chose me to be a
Prophet and lead my people
Murder non-believers
With lyrics that are lethal
I hit 'em heavy with it
Yo I stay ready wit' it
Come try to test me wit' it
Regret you ever did it
Call who pimpin'?
I got my own back
You got them baby paper?
I got them grown stacks
But this ain’t 'bout no bread
Not 'bout what niggas said
Not 'bout what hoes believe
If you in here with me
Yeah I gotta come again
Just to let you know the deal
8 Ways to company
Beats come from Du Real (yeah)
We’re them niggas should not nobody be fuckin' with
Slayer riders Chopper city
Had you bitches doubled quick
This ain’t 'bout who rap the best
This ain’t 'bout who got the most
This is not no gangsta rap
This ain’t 'bout no pimps and hoes
This here ain’t no country shit
Ain’t no way to label this
Memphis where I come from
Orange Mound veteran
What I represent — whoever live in poverty
Hard working niggas that
Try to hustle honestly
Man, I represent who
Lookin' good and feelin' nice
Niggas on that drank 'n 'dro
Fresh clothes;
full of ice
(Yeah) We gon' keep this slummin' comin' with the dirtiest
(Yeah) If you from the gutter then I know you heard of this
This ain’t bout where you from
This ain’t bout where you be
This here 'bout feelin' free
If you in here with me
Go 'head and put 'em up
Put your hands where I can see 'em
Put your hands where I can see 'em
Go 'head and put 'em up
Put your hands where I can see 'em
Put your hands where I can see 'em
Yeah, 8 Ways, Du Realla
Cold Lab
Slab 2 is goin' down baby
This your boy Du Martin
Stop playin'