Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Recession Proof , by - CES Cru. Song from the album Recession Proof, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хопRelease date: 29.10.2015
Record label: Strange
Song language: English
Recession Proof |
| Yeah, let me set the mood, CES the CRU! |
| Times hard, money down, but we’re gettin' through |
| Cash flow and market crash, I’m still collecting loot |
| Be ware who you come around and are connected to |
| Back in affect my crew’ll let you know I rep the new |
| They stack the deck I use what I have as a steppin' stool |
| Ces said it true, now let it spread and move, credit due |
| Fed it unleaded fuel, reap the benefits when it grew |
| Stackin' my revenue, they act like they never knew |
| I’m tappin' all the markets; |
| black, white, red, and blue |
| The fact that Ces sold 45k is incredible |
| The prophets rise as I philosophize from a peasant’s throne |
| Success not set in stone, nothing’s ever guaranteed |
| Made the dues for me to pay until they gave me clarity |
| We see the game as clear as day, I never do hear your name |
| The residue of fear is hate, tell it to steer away |
| Homie connect the clues, the plan is place any bets you lose |
| Time’s hard, money down, but we’re gettin' through |
| Recession Proof (recession proof) |
| Recession Proof (recession proof) |
| Cash flow and market crash, I’m collectin' loot |
| (I'm off the wall screaming leave me alone hoe) |
| Don’t beat it Billie Jean |
| Approach the dock, park it |
| Ya highest reign, that plane’ll crash like the stock market |
| To me it’s funny, these dummies is broke as auntie-tough |
| Money’s in the family, sucks the plan is to ante up |
| Bust in the air and the second they hear that blast blaow |
| Hop over the counter and count up what’s in the cash cow |
| I’m Robin Hood with a stack of fetty to pass out |
| Relocate myself like I’m Prince in this bitch, I’m assed out |
| Go dumb for duckets, y’all kick the bucket and stay broke |
| Just as soon as we leave the saloon, we robbing the stagecoach |
| Lames acting the saddest, mad at the way we flip the script |
| Plus everybody’s lunchin' on something, let’s get the chips and dip |
| Grab my Glock with custom pistol grips, get fucked with just the tip |
| Snatch a cup of blood from a gravedigger and take a sip |
| Prob’ly flip right into a grave soon as it hits the lip |
| Radar serpent, I ain’t afraid, I know it’s just a blip |
| Just left my home it’s time |
| You know my rhyme is ice cold and i’m steppin' through |
| I blindfolded my goals, line 'em up and execute |
| I saw your fuckin' show bro and I thought your set was cute |
| Actin' as if you got it on lock and there’s nothin' left to dupes |
| I heard a lot of small talk and I up and left the room |
| Claimin' Pharaoh, not a Monche but built himself impressive tombs |
| They say what I spit is gas, I guess that my breath is fumes |
| Sick without a cure, I’m sure God blessed if I’ve infected you |
| They say that death consumes, I aim at the chest and shoot |
| Put my heart and soul on a track and pray that the record moves |
| Won’t be satisfied 'til the legends say they respect my views |
| Do a sold out show and I see my name in electric hues |
| Let’s set the fuse my man, today we affect the news |
| Times hard, money down, but we’re gettin' through |
| Recession Proof (recession proof) |
| Recession Proof (recession proof) |
| Cash flow and market crash, I’m collectin' loot |
| Times hard, money down, true but we’re gettin' through |
| Recession Proof, cash market crash, I’m collectin' loot |
| Punk, get ya bank up |
| Molly Brown motherfucker can’t sink us |
| (Now, why they comin' with the picture but they can’t bust) |
| Better pay us, gettin' wetter than a paintbrush |
| (If you goin' full, let a nigga fill a tank up) |
| Do you want more, we will fucking bankrupt |
| Now we’re on a more tour |
| (Steadier than Bruce Lee on the fourth floor) |
| Now we’re on the third puttin' words on the scoreboard |
| Every city I’m heard, bitch, give me my turn |
| (In the Midi I burn like hay, in the middle of a barn ok look away get sprayed) |
| They never get cake cause they never take this gray |
| (Hit this 'a', but they really lookin' (?)) |
| Shot shots ricochet, hit 'em when they aim this way |
| (Knock knock, pick a play, actin' like a bitch, get laid) |
| Hip hop out of the Midi West dipped in Strange |
| (So Rob Zombie, I’m finna get them brains |
| Hop up in another whip and then switch lanes) |
| When we got up into the game, we made a big bang |
| Now everybody has heard about our way the dick hang |
| This way, (that way) |
| Does it give me back pain, these motherfuckers wanna piggyback fame |
| (And they lookin' big Willy with his wiggy whack name) |
| In the state of Missouri, Killer City where cash reign |