Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song A + Z , by - A+. Release date: 31.12.1995
Song language: English
A + Z |
| Yeah yeah |
| Word up (Yeah son) |
| Yeah yo how this goin down nine-six |
| How we livin son (exoticness) |
| Nine-six exoticness (representin') |
| Know what I mean? |
| (A+) |
| A+ (yo how we livin?) |
| This is New York City |
| Ninety-seven Sosa |
| A to Z up in the spot representin |
| Takin it back from here its sposed to be |
| Takin ya back son take it back |
| Check it |
| Six digit trickin coke and henny mixin many listen |
| Fuckin give me mine dont wanna see no penny missin |
| Its old tradition how we click and fall in position |
| The rap coalition, we gettin rich an |
| Poetically Im deadly like a crucifiction |
| Buddha addiction |
| Dismissin competition when they roll wit friction |
| My whole crew be schemin flippy |
| Like ixing for that chicken |
| Smith brothas and A on ya Mason-Dixon |
| Who want the steel cap feel the real rap |
| Patiently my whole crew waited and we rock premeditated |
| Chucked underground like the rap genie |
| And watch the shore by the rising tide now the whole world can see me |
| When they get foul thats when my style gets wild |
| I hang a man in front of a crowd without a trial |
| KAPOW, yo thats all she wrote end the quote |
| For frontin, a brotha got a dome and his legs broke |
| Yeah son I want it all your crib, cars and beepers |
| Wit hundred dollar sneakers my sounds blowin ya speakers |
| Burgundy landcruisers chrome rims on blue rugers |
| Lyrical hollow tip slug point trugers |
| Yo yo |
| Yo drug connects |
| Diamond cut bergets drippin wet |
| My hole is there from Cu-bec got her flippin checks |
| What, I push a black Lex with gold on my neck |
| You rockin wit a vest tryin to catch a hole in ya chest |
| Firm official, exotic girl but wanna be the ritual |
| Leavin lights shine light theyve been psyched to slip through |
| I will abolish |
| MCs get straight up demolished |
| Yo my mind is like a nine I load it up wit knowledge |
| The realism must continue where I live is like a battlefield |
| We all poor but on my block is like a half a mil |
| Surrounded by the most criminal type of elements |
| Blunts, stunts, gunshots, broken-down developments |
| Its all illegal, young juveniles wit the desert eagles |
| Street sweepers, heaters, soon-to-be retreaters |
| Its routine, people seem to go through a cycle |
| So confused, to choose between the bible or the rifle |
| Watch em stifle |
| Yo me an son gone escalate this |
| And get these papers run some capers while they catch the vapors |
| Yeah son, dont got no time for no chicken trickin |
| Its the lyrical addiction |
| Cuz me an AZ be politikin |