Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Letterman, artist - CES Cru. Album song Recession Proof, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 29.10.2015
Record label: Strange
Song language: English
Letterman |
| I got a box heart made of prose |
| Shot target, aim at those |
| Rock star favor so it’s not hard to stay afloat |
| Me and all my 'A' to 'Z', we got along so famously |
| Pretty far from famous though |
| City scar but hate is home |
| Pretty broad, painted toes, feelin' so unfadable |
| Winnin' like we 8−0, I’m just tryna let you know |
| Exchange of flows, cash checks at the bank and loan |
| Fresh like change of clothes |
| Sex, lights made it glow |
| Set time, day and show, feel my vibe radiate |
| Made it for the radio, sat it by the radiator |
| Next life may be thought, shout out to Eusébio |
| In this rhyme scheme his name’ll go |
| I’m just sayin' though |
| Daddy told me, «take it slow, son, watch ya baby grow.» |
| Truthfully, my baby grew these days, I got a 8 year old |
| Makin' dough, startin' LLC, let him take control |
| When I tour, I pray he safe alone and don’t break a bone |
| Streets not paved with gold |
| Keep watch, wait and hold |
| These blocks crazy cold |
| I seen rocks made of soap |
| Beat cops Jason, when will fiends stop slangin' dope |
| He watch, they condone, we got to break the MO |
| So I took a brake, I ain’t tryna take a brick |
| Get a «e, change the code, I quit |
| That’s the way it is |
| I wanna tell myself |
| What is more dangerous |
| I let him run the streets, or teach him foreign languages |
| Aside my pen, enslaved by the rent |
| Landlord on insane |
| Tenants sayin', «not again» |
| Some things never change |
| Never mind the weather vein |
| Hope the raven nevermore |
| Better pour when it rain |
| Throw bread I claim, never bang |
| Livin' in this neighborhood |
| It’s red as flame |
| Haters couldn’t get his name |
| Said it plain, makin' sure they let him reign |
| Then again, the etches never came |
| David Letterman |
| Notice they, hatin' us cause the way we makin' dough |
| Must be cause they ain’t figured out a way to make it so |
| Take control, suckers wanna sit around and wait to blow |
| Inspiration fake and moments have to wake and bake a bowl |
| Shakin' so, sick of social media, I hate the troll |
| All I need is riches, y’all gon' witness as I break the MO |
| Crack the code, put them hands together, get to clappin' foes |
| Then release the Kraken, back in action, yeah I’m mackin' hoes |
| That’s lingo from '94, yeah that’s how it used to go |
| Nowadays, I use the glow, Kaboomin' like Bazooka Joe |
| And you should know |
| Money’s short, them dockets need a boost to grow |
| Undercut us and my brothers prolly won’t come to the show |
| From below, so wonderful, from Killer City to the MO |
| He’s a man with many faces, not the dude you used to know |
| Movin' through maneuvers so maneuver yo |
| Ass and get to roamin' like a numeral |
| Assuming you intuit flow |
| (Stop!) |
| Aside my pen, enslaved by the rent |
| Landlord on insane |
| Tenants sayin', «not again» |
| Some things never change |
| Never mind the weather vein |
| Hope the raven nevermore |
| Bet it pour when it rain |
| Throw bread I claim, never bang |
| Livin' in this neighborhood |
| It’s red as flame |
| Haters couldn’t get his name |
| Said it plain, makin' sure they let him reign |
| Then again, the etches never came |
| David Letterman |