Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Control, artist - Black Hippy. Date of issue: 14.09.2014
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Control |
| I look up |
| Yeah and I take my time |
| Nigga, I’mma take my time, whoa |
| Power moves only |
| Boy I’m 'bout my business on business |
| I drink liquor on liquor |
| I have women on women |
| Yeah that’s bunk bed bitches |
| I’ve done lived more than an eighty year old man still kickin' |
| 'Cause they live for some moments, and I live for a livin' |
| But this for the girls who barely let me get to first base |
| On some ground ball shit |
| 'Cause now I run my city on some town hall shit |
| They prayin' on my motherfuckin' downfall bitch like a drought but |
| You gon' get this rain like it’s May weather |
| G.O.O.D. |
| Music, Ye weather |
| Champagne just tastes better |
| They told me I never boy, never say never |
| Swear flow special like an infant’s first steps |
| I got paid then reversed debts |
| Then I finally found a girl that reverse stress |
| So now I’m talkin' to the reaper to reverse death |
| Yep, so I can kick it with my granddad, take him for a ride |
| Show him I made somethin' out myself and not just tried |
| Show him the house I bought the fam, let him tour inside |
| No matter how far ahead I get, I always feel behind |
| In my mind, but fuck tryin' and not doin' |
| 'Cause not doin' is somethin' a nigga not doin' |
| I said fuck tryin' and not doin' |
| 'Cause not doin' is somethin' a nigga not doin' |
| I grew up to Em, B.I.G., and Pac bitch, and got ruined |
| So until I got the same crib B.I.G. |
| had in that Juicy vid bitch |
| I can’t motherfuckin' stop movin' |
| Go against me, you won’t stop losin' |
| From the city where every month is May- |
| Day at home, spray your dome |
| Niggas get sprayed up like AK was cologne for a paycheck or loan |
| Yeah I know that shit ain’t fair |
| They say Detroit ain’t got a chance, we ain’t even got a mayor |
| You write your name with a Sharpie, I write mine in stone |
| I knew the world was for the taking and wouldn’t take long |
| We on, tryna be better than everybody that’s better than everybody |
| Rep Detroit, everybody, Detroit versus everybody |
| I’m so fuckin' first class I could spit up on every pilot |
| The city’s my Metropolis, feel it It’s metabolic |
| And I’m over niggas sayin' they’re the hottest niggas |
| Then run to the hottest niggas just to stay hot |
| I’m one of the hottest because I flame drop |
| Drop fire, and not because I’m name droppin' |
| Hall of Fame droppin' |
| And I ain’t takin' shit from nobody unless they’re OGs |
| 'Cause that ain’t the way of a OG |
| So I G-O collect more Gs, every dollar |
| Never changed though, I’m just the new version of old me |
| Forever hot headed but never got cold feet |
| Got up in the game won’t look back at my old seats |
| Clique so deep we take up the whole street |
| I need a bitch so bad that she take up my whole week, Sean Don |
| Miscellaneous minds are never explainin' their minds |
| Devilish grin for my alias aliens to respond |
| Peddlin' sin, thinkin' maybe when you get old you realize |
| I’m not gonna fold or demise |
| (I don’t smoke crack, motherfucker I sell it) |
| Bitch, everything I rap is a quarter piece to your melon |
| So if you have a relapse, just relax and pop in my disc |
| Don’t you pop me no fucking pill, I’mma pop you then give you this |
| Tell Flex to drop a bomb on this shit |
| So many bombs, ring the alarm like Vietnam on this shit |
| So many bombs, make Farrakhan think that Saddam in this bitch |
| One at a time, I line 'em up and bomb on they mom while she watchin' the kids |
| I’m in a destruction mode if the gold exists |
| I’m important like the Pope, I’m a Muslim on pork |
| I’m Makaveli’s offspring, I’m the King of New York |
| King of the Coast, one hand, I juggle them both |
| The juggernaut’s all in your jugular, you take me for jokes |
| Live in the basement, church pews and funeral faces |
| Cartier bracelets for my women friends, I’m in Vegas |
| Who the fuck y’all thought it’s supposed to be? |
| If Phil Jackson came back, still no coachin' me |
| I’m uncoachable, I’m unsociable |
| Fuck y’all clubs, fuck y’all pictures |
| Your Instagram can gobble these nuts |
| Gobble dick up 'til you hiccup |
| My big homie Kurupt |
| This the same flow that put the rap game on a crutch |
| West, west, west, west, west, west |
| I’ve seen niggas transform like villain Decepticons |
| Mollies probably turn these niggas to fuckin' Lindsay Lohan |
| A bunch of rich ass white girls lookin' for parties |
| Playin' with Barbies wreck the Porsche before you give 'em the car key |
| Judgement to the monarchy, blessings to Paul McCartney |
| You called me a black Beatle, I’m either that or a Marley |
| (I don’t smoke crack, motherfucker I sell it!) |
| I’m dressed in all black, this is not for the fan of Elvis |
| I’m aimin' straight for your pelvis, you can’t stomach me |
| You plan on stumpin' me? |
| Bitch I’ve been jumped before you put a gun on me |
| Bitch I put one on yours I’m Sean Connery |
| James Bonding, with none of you niggas climbing 100 mil in front of me |
| And I’m gonna get it even if you’re in the way |
| And if you’re in it, better run for Pete’s sake |
| I heard the barbershops be in great debates all the time |
| 'Bout who’s the best MC? |
| Kendrick, Jigga and Nas |
| Eminem, André 3000, the rest of ya’ll |
| New niggas just new niggas, don’t get involved |
| And I ain’t rocking no more designer shit |
| White T’s and Nike Cortez, this is red Corvette’s anonymous |
| I’m usually homeboys with the same niggas I’m rhyming with |
| But this is hip hop and them niggas should know what time it is |
| And that goes for Jermaine Cole, Big K.R.I.T., Wale |
| Pusha T, Meek Millz, A$AP Rocky, Drake |
| Big Sean, Jay Electron, Tyler, Mac Miller |
| I got love for you all but I’m tryna murder you niggas |
| Tryna make sure your core fans never heard of you niggas |
| They don’t wanna hear not one more noun or verb from you niggas |
| What is competition? |
| I’m tryna raise the bar high |
| Who tryna jump and get it? |
| You’re better off tryna skydive |
| Out the exit window of 5 G5's with 5 grand |
| With your granddad as the pilot he drunk as fuck tryna land |
| With the hand full of arthritis and popping prosthetic leg |
| Bumping Pac in the cockpit so the shit that pops in his head |
| Is an option of violence, someone heard the stewardess said |
| That your parachute is a latex condom hooked to a dread |
| West Coast |
| You could check my name on the books |
| I Earth, Wind, and Fire’d the verse, then reigned on the hook |
| The legend of Dorothy Flower’s proclaimed from the roof |
| The tale of a magnificent king who came from the nooks |
| Of the wild magnolia, mother of many soldiers |
| We live by every single word she ever told us |
| Watch over your shoulders |
| And keep a tin of beans for when the weather turn the coldest |
| The Lord is our shepherd, so our cup runneth over |
| Put your trust in the Lord, but tether your Chevy Nova |
| I’m spitting this shit for closure |
| And God is my witness, so you could get it from Hova |
| To all you magicians that’s fidgeting with the cobra |
| I’m solid as a rock, 'cause I came from a rock |
| That’s why I came with the rock, then signed my name on the Roc |
| Draw a line around some earth, then put my name on the plot |
| 'Cause I endured a lot of pain for everything that I got |
| The eyelashes like umbrellas when it rain from the heart |
| And the tissue was like an angel kissing you in the dark |
| You go from blind sight to hindsight |
| Passion of the Christ, right, to basking in the limelight |
| It take time to get your mind right |
| Jay Electricity, PBS Mysteries |
| In a lofty place, tangling with Satan over history |
| You can’t say shit to me |
| الحمد لله |
| It’s strictly by faith that we made it this far |