Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song AllttA, artist - AllttA. Album song The Upper Hand, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 16.02.2017
Record label: On And On
Song language: English
AllttA |
| American me, wearin' a hair net as a teen |
| Feeding my arrogance to be seen |
| Embarrassed to care, I was scared, unaware of my dreams |
| Just an heir to what my parents had seen, how unfair it all seems |
| Collar to throat was the barrio joke |
| Had 3 Flowers a comb and some dollar store locs |
| Ironing rags keep your eye on the sag |
| A disguise for those admired but never fired a mag |
| I grew tired of that, I grew eyes on my back |
| They drew iron when I drew rhymes, now who’s firing back? |
| Told myself keep your mind on them raps |
| Knowing damn well this shits chess, Denzel |
| And distress is for the damsel lying on tracks |
| 719 my Springs training days |
| Clever with rhymes I ain’t explaining a thing |
| Though I ain’t claiming to bang, I state in criminal slang |
| I speak better with signs and subliminal hymnals |
| Lines look minimal until I paint a King |
| Be it Rodney or Martin who can make the claim |
| When it’s minds like Stephen’s who create the game |
| Be it Tut, Louis, or Midas, the mistakes of James |
| These times got me relying on the King of Kings |
| 'Cause ain’t a hand that can change a thing |
| Can you blame the ring when painting man with some angel wings? |
| Now keep it moving my styles deep seeming confusing |
| Me and 20 in a league of our own; |
| where have you been? |
| Where art thou? |
| You who trend? |
| Where is art now? |
| Please, let me clue you in |
| I said 20, thou, league, see I drop Jules and |
| Used those last three bars in parts to prelude, dang |
| Sylvain said «I see you man» |
| Brought my skills from LA to the EU land |
| And formed AllttA and on this altar I offer my language 'til all words are |
| auburn |
| Sorta like in autumn see my loose leaf’s changing am I too deep say it and |
| we’ll all learn |
| I said language, altar, and auburn, I’m saying pages are getting read as they |
| all turn |
| But they on an altar, I’m saying they all burn |
| Words are getting purged in the flames call our songs urns |
| If all of our songs earn and we get paid well |
| Is it 'cause we’ve all learned that only fame sells? |
| If you’re not at all concerned if we can paint well |
| You can take our name just make sure that it’s framed well |
| And hang it high, expose it to every angle |
| Guess it’s all the same when they claim no one can tell |
| Maybe it’s the way that our names spelled |
| AllttA, A Little Lower Than The Angels |
| AllttA, a-a-a little lower, little lower, little lower |
| AllttA, AllttA, AllttA, AllttA |
| A little lower than the angels |
| AllttA, a-a-a little lower, little lower, little lower |
| AllttA, AllttA, AlltA, AllttA |
| A Little Lower Than The Angels |