Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Track Two , by - Ab-Soul. Song from the album Control System, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопRelease date: 10.05.2012
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Tunecore
Song language: English
Track Two |
| B-O, what up my nigga? |
| E3 I’m a get you on these backwoods last thing I do nigga |
| Yeah |
| Oh shit nigga! |
| Oh shit nigga! |
| These niggas done did it again |
| Tae Beast why you do that man? |
| Why the fuck you had to do that man? |
| This shit sound like a 100 birds under the Carson Sheriff Station |
| I told Rizac I get off my stash |
| We really out here my nigga! |
| When I roll through the city it give me a rush |
| Yeah I’m high off life but I’m rolling blunts |
| And they couldn’t wait for Soul to reappear |
| Click, boom. |
| T.N.T., TDE, we in here |
| Mm, mm, mm! |
| I can smell fear |
| From a mile away, you might as well get from round here |
| I run the town like Roc Nation, no exaggeration |
| Bet I rise like Lazarus, use your imagination |
| Fascinated by you faggots hating |
| Get an occupation |
| You in violation, provoke annihilation |
| Flow like the Nile river, yo it’s now or never |
| You had a release date, but now it’s never |
| Yeah, welcome to the Control System |
| I’m stimulating the hoes and educating my niggas |
| I wiggle through potholes, my destination is vivid |
| To the end of the road I’m driven |
| Y’all trippin' |
| Soulo |
| And we stunting like |
| Ab-Soul, abstract, asshole |
| Give the people what they need |
| Damn right, let 'em know |
| You got some kind of disease |
| I’m the illest in the business |
| If you ain’t with the business, mind your business |
| And we stunting like |
| Ab-Soul, abstract, asshole |
| Give the people what they need |
| Damn right, let 'em know |
| You got some kind of disease |
| I’m the illest in the business |
| If you ain’t with the business, mind your business |
| And we stunting like |
| Like I ain’t never had shit |
| Cause I never had shit |
| Same Chucks, two years straight, doing bad shit |
| Sick, twist two spliffs out my dime bag shit |
| Pissed, tryna get a good response out this bad bitch |
| Which one of you niggas wanna call my bluff? |
| Wish granted, call his ass granite, now he mopped up |
| Never been locked up but I keep a sentence |
| Winners win and sinners sin only to ask God forgiveness |
| In this world of luxury cars, illegal tender |
| Johnny want me like Wyclef Jean gone til' November |
| Pop my collar like I’m Don Juan, green to my slippers |
| Just remember that they don’t want me to get ignorant |
| Sinister literature, given from this wicked minister |
| Witness your future diminish |
| No present from Saint Nicholas in particular |
| You’re just a thing of the past |
| I’m a diamond ring in the trash |
| No reason to brag, it’s Ab |
| What’s your life about, enlighten me |
| Is you gon' live on your knees or die on your feet? |
| Can’t lose, you niggas must admire defeat |
| You lying like Nala nigga, you know where to find a nigga |
| Del Amo, Carson in the house |
| The View, The Village, Scottsdale and right back around |
| Can’t forget about The Patch, matter fact |
| I got some homies off Grace Ave., we go way back |
| Been running round since L train cut up at our people |
| Rocket was my role model, Lil' Rocket my number one O-migo |
| With fifteen in the back alley |
| Hop fences and skip school |
| Fellowship with the gang members, and goddammit I still do |
| But just imagine if Einstein got high and sipped juice |
| Broke rules, got pussy, beat up rookies on Pro Tools |
| You probably call his ass Soul Brother #2 |
| And I just took a number two |
| And ain’t this track number two? |