Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Legend, artist - Bizarre. Album song DJ Smokey Gray Presents Compilation Album Volume 6, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 04.05.2016
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: No Money
Song language: English
Legend |
Hand on the trigger, I’m from Lansing, Grand River |
Yeah I’m off a pill, drunk in the party |
Pump in the trunk, I take a nigga Cartis |
Yeah I’m with the shit, yeah I’m bout the action |
I can make it happen, I ain’t just rappin' |
I’m a real nigga, niggas gotta feel |
on my face, I’ll probably get killed |
4 in the morning, at the casino |
Dirty white bitch, now I’m headed to Reno |
Man I be tripping, man I be whilin' |
Keep a mean mug, I ain’t never smilin' |
Just popped a Xan, gone off a Perc |
Off in the studio, time to get to work |
I be fucking hoes, I be nailing groupies |
Holiday Inn, off in a Jacuzzi |
Take a long walk inside my shoes |
I’ll bet your legs give out on ya |
What happens when you got everything to lose |
Just by standing out on your own corner? |
Your fans love you, they watch all your interviews |
They’re so into you |
They want you to be a legend now |
We put in mellow, we don’t wanna let them guns go |
These lil niggas be wolfing off at they gums though |
With all that tough talk, I’m so far removed from it |
I’ll just send some homies down your block to take a cruise on it |
Leave your face looking like a case of, «Who done it?» |
Throw a few hundred on the floor, looking like, «Who want it?» |
(I'll take that) |
Heat your block up, Arizona, we’ll Tuc-son it |
A play grinning through Bubonic that’s true phonics (Real talk) |
Don’t act too brolic, 22s polished |
We are too solid, turning beef into fruit salad |
So stick to rappin', you ain’t bout the clappin' |
When we pull up, you be wishing for shit not to happen |
You be throwing soggy punches, you are not for scrappin' |
They gon' find you in the bando, and it’s not from trappin' (Damn!) |
You only roll with tough guys, you are not one |
Just because you went to Walmart and bought a shotgun (Fuck outta here!) |
Take a long walk inside my shoes |
I’ll bet your legs give out on ya |
What happens when you got everything to lose |
Just by standing out on your own corner? |
Your fans love you, they watch all your interviews |
They’re so into you |
They want you to be a legend now |
They love you when you hot, then hate you when you not |
They turn into something different after drinking concoctions |
Soon as you start monopolizing, they end up plottin' |
They forgot, I’m much smarter than that, and it ain’t a option |
To stab a knife in my back |
I’ve been accustomed to amputate associates in a millisec, fuck respect |
What is that? |
That title is wack, cause Dirty Dozen’s |
The only fellas I’m ever into acting with |
I can’t walk the streets without niggas babblin' |
Marshall that and Marshall this |
«Where Porter at?» |
We all gettin' chips |
We all rappin', we still giving daps and hugs |
Crackin' jokes, reminiscing on Proof and Bugz (RIP) |
We don’t give a fuck, bout the haters outside the family |
Don’t get involved or try to give dap to me, word to Big Sean |
I’m a Detroiter that’s ducking and dodging pawns |
I throw you haters inside the pot holes in my lawn, bitch |
Take a long walk inside my shoes |
I’ll bet your legs give out on ya |
What happens when you got everything to lose |
Just by standing out on your own corner? |
Your fans love you, they watch all your interviews |
They’re so into you |
They want you to be a legend now |