Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Aint Nuttin Changed, artist - Blaq Poet. Album song The Blaqprint, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 30.07.2009
Record label: Year Round
Song language: English
Aint Nuttin Changed |
| You know what’s poppin' |
| (Ain't nuttin changed) |
| You know what’s on |
| (When I come to the hood) |
| It’s like woooo-aaahhh! |
| Ain’t nuttin' changed 'Po whatchu gonna do man? |
| We still gettin' money, bitches still actin' funny |
| They wanna hold somethin, can’t get shit from me |
| I’m back on the block, passin' the rock |
| Got my young squad, you don’t want 'em bastards to pop |
| Rhyme veteran ready to get it in |
| Way before fif I was hated by many men |
| When I come to the hood, you know I’m creepin' |
| Leave you leakin', missiles heat seekin' |
| Nuttin' to talk about, fo' pound in your mouth |
| New York in the house, I dare you to walk it out |
| Straight menace, fight to the finish |
| Niggas get demolished, diminished I mean business |
| Millionaire rappers still wanna envy me |
| They wish they was mini-me, I’m sick on any beat |
| Niggas need those |
| I’m on a hill, where all the fiends go |
| Big bottle of yack, the big gat |
| Niggas fall back, I got the biggest crap |
| And when it’s time to go, I go hard |
| Fuck the police they got a job, I got a job |
| Ain’t nuttin' changed, except the weather |
| Except the chedda, except a nigga got betta |
| After all these years and all these beers |
| I got niggas still running in fear, why? |
| I ain’t killin' nuttin', I ain’t lettin' nuttin' die |
| Niggas know the repercussions if they fucking try |
| Shine up, stand up and a puffy eye |
| Besides that? |
| Blaq Poet, a lovely guy |
| Run around have fun in the hood |
| Get love from my thuns when I come in the hood |
| Ain’t nuttin' changed |
| Niggas still pumping the rain |
| Things still come from the train |
| Still gotta tell them mothafuckas no change |
| Niggas still on the block, holdin' em thangs |
| Some disappeared like motherfucking Blaine |
| Some got hang, some comin' home, some in the zone |
| They all can’t wait 'til I tell 'em that it’s on |
| Blaq Poet army across New York |
| Ya’ll niggas don’t even talk, You done prim with a fork |
| Screwball disciples get at you |
| Niggas don’t like you, baseball bat you |
| Or sit up on a roof, and snipe you |
| Miles away, 50 cal rifle |
| A real gangsta is good in any hood |
| A real goon comin' soon to your hood |