Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song No Fear, artist - Black Rob. Date of issue: 21.07.2011
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
No Fear |
| Everybody talk, nobody gon' do it |
| Came through, defied the odds, then I grew here |
| I must have made 10 mill and ran through it |
| Baby love come and go man, so screw it |
| It’s nothing to it |
| Watch me as I stick and move on this groove |
| While I’m duckin' the paparazzi |
| Only person shot me was Jonathan Manion |
| Before and after I was fat as Ralph Cramden |
| Y’all don’t like the fam then shout it |
| Dumb, dumb, dumb, I don’t like Black Rob |
| Let’s talk about it |
| These motherfuckers change like the seasons |
| The hate that y’all harbor, 9 times outta 10 there’s no reason |
| Committing treason, then they try to run |
| Forget that they got asthma, stop and they start wheezing |
| I see him looking for his asthma pump |
| I’m in that Maybach watching the? |
| on the plasma slumped |
| I’m right here daddy, I no fear |
| Objects in the mirror is closer than they appear |
| So people be advised, my eyes on the prize |
| This ain’t an exercise or the birth of some tough guys |
| A lot of y’all don’t figure me rich |
| Won’t follow me around, just twitter me, bitch |
| And I show you how I done it, pulled out and told 'em run it |
| Plus I’ll let you meet the fam uptown in the wild 100s |
| Fans wanna walk in my shoes, I give 'em a chance |
| My lifestyle’ll make 'em defecate in their pants |
| Y’all don’t believe me, ask the God 'bout me |
| He’ll tell you how I hate to lose and I can’t stand defeat |
| A product of da streets, P-O-D-S |
| I don’t like cheques, fam, C-O-D's best |
| That’s how I do when I do it, I’m not stressed |
| These chicks see me stuntin' like boy is a hot mess |
| I must confess, Harlem made me this way |
| Fuck what the chicks say, Rob don’t play |
| So people throw your hands up and show me where the cash at |
| Matter fact, put 'em down, I might catch a flashback |
| Benz hatchback, TVs in it |
| Haters like «that's my car» till they see me in it |
| Head reason I go on and all my thoughts' infinite |
| Furthermore, y’all ain’t heard the bars flow in a minute |
| See Rob can hold his own, ain’t nothing timid |
| He don’t sound like y’all, it’s all authentic |
| Gimme the ball on the court, I put all the? |
| Just cause I do and-1 moves, its no gimmick nigga |
| You’re spitting limericks, your petty five lines |
| Wanna see the beast come out, say my name five times |
| Round for round, I’m down, shake the town |
| Shake you down, wave the pound, lays it down |
| P! |
| Haha, listen, listen |
| Yo, the 4−5th is what I use to spark |
| For entertainment purpose, no amusement park |
| Listen pa, duke my movement’s smart |
| Chest blow with a left throw nigga |
| It’ll bruise your heart |
| Listen pa, I am not kiddin', plot thicken |
| Shots given to niggas who fuckin' wit' Ahk? |
| Rap’s my profession, the biz is reefer |
| I smoke more of that shit than Wiz Khalifa |
| 1−2-6 and Madison got body bags |
| My gun spit shit, leave your ass in a body bag |
| Brooklyn’s Finest, fuck police |
| Your wife’s a cop then fuck police |
| Listen, nigga my thing gon' pop |
| Sean Price on the remix |
| With bank gon' pop, P! |