Lyrics Raw - Cappadonna, Don Shae, Amar Divine

Raw

I’m in the hood like Polo vest with mad ink on it
Blunt side with Diesel
Always got stink on it
Concrete babies
Pampers don’t fit em
Whoever don’t belong here
Somebody goin get em
I be in the projects, slums and the alleys
15 silk shirts, Jones and Balleys
125th Street rappin at rallys
But then it’s silk view so full of knowledge
Young n the restless
Never on the guest list
Scared we going come in the spot
And straight wreck shit
Child support getting paid
Before they accept it
But my pressure going buss
If I’m feeling rejected
Rap extremely good
And feel like i’m breathless
I do it for my family
And that’s why i’m blessed with it
Chicks keep hatin'
Cause they see my success with it
Pass it to my man
Cause he never fuckin mess with it
Vibrant lights
Silent moon
Watching over
As we step into the room
Stars applaud
They in support of what we do
It’s only gods involved
Feel it when we come through
Thunder in the drum
A bolt of lightning out the tongue
Imma hit the of every function
We admit, immaculate spread
Hammer suckers submit
And even now the niggas game
Me some shit so righteous
Used to gettin' loaded in cyphers
Mads getting its the survival of crisis
Hold up the format and nobody like this
Won’t catch us in your average cyphers
We writers professionally
Came to knock you off your pedestal
All that rap criminal shit
Ya’ll rappers beat ain’t true
To rhyme like a vehicle
Move to forward tell the industry
Real niggas backin them up
Yo hip hop lingers on
My man Angel Lue
I’m still rhyming direct
From the 1s and 2s
I’m in the hallway
I’m in the doorway
I still keep a skip by the steps
Man, all day
I’m a yes man
Fuck best man
Ya’ll know the niggas I’m fuckin with
Yes the Klan
Capadon, Raekwon, Chef, Method Man
And I remember the first every Summer Jam
King Just, KRO was the opener
And we came
A hundred and some niggas
Broke as fuck
Overlord, yea lord we wild wid it
Feather don’t know when
Them Staten niggas around wid it
Rap money
Crack every real night
Bitch give em the money
I still know the real rights
Hip hop pumpin
Hip hop jumpin
Ya’ll need to stop with that
Hip hop frontin
Ya’ll need to stop with that
Hip hop frontin
Ya’ll need to stop with that
Hip hop frontin
You kill then you shot
Malcolm X in the frame
Damn man
These killas go’n murder to the game
Apply heat to beef
Like a burger to the flame
Murder the game
Brah heard you can do the same
I’m Hussein on the script
But I’m like Lou Kane when I flip
Brain’s what I hit
You lames go’n be sick
Like dysenteriae
4−4 to bury you
The more, the merrier
Let’s build a wall
I’m daring ya
Rest in Big Pun
You ain’t killed a monkey
You’re a gorilla
He ain’t building shade tho
Lettin em chains blow
Sometimes I wear hard
Yeah sometimes I halo
A death sentence
In the form of a union
I suggest
Cause we normally shooting
Leave your chest
For more recruiting
Like the label advance
Sink your ship like a naval advance