Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Style Wars, artist - Chuck Strangers
Date of issue: 15.02.2018
Song language: English
Style Wars |
I want to thank God for this vibe |
I’m just laid up high |
Thinkin' «fuck a job, I’d rather boss up on |
Something I believe in» |
Sonic and aesthetically pleasing |
Niggas claiming they the best while Rakim still breathing |
Do your Googles nigga |
I’m in control of things |
God and I move together as two |
Manifesting the moves |
Steady blessing the crew |
We worry ya with the rhyming |
Shoutouts to Oakland, but the warriors from Coney Island |
On them roof tops, lit one up for 2Pac |
'Cause this is murder rap |
Thinking how quick we grew up, low-key insane |
My best friend she snort 'caine, guess life was like a dice game |
Should I risk it with the biscuit? |
That’s when the cops came |
The dynamic of my whole block changed |
Yo it’s a John Stark reality, New York mentality |
Faded and miseducated, twenty-four years he made it |
Now niggas can express they selves, yo |
Sometimes I need to be alone |
Turn off the MP', shut off my phone and just zone |
I think of home when I need to be strong |
We’re rolling up, no more hitting the bong |
It’s just different phases I’m on, when I be writing these songs |
You can hear my heart sing the tales of the light that the dark bring |
The dark sing pain and prosperity |
Chopped the new shipment now I got all my equipment |
So I’m plotting on some necklaces, Mercedes or the Lexus shit? |
You could see it in my eyes, I got niggerish endeavors |
They gon' try to hide or make it sound clever |
While the metronome tick like a fake Rolex |
I’m wondering who hoes next |
I just wanna fuck you, singing ass bitch |
Don’t take the curve personal, I’m just not tryna work with you |
I’mma be stunting on all the lame niggas who pass me |
When me and Sylvie drop Ashley, it’s no more being ashy, huh |
And that’s my word |
I been fiendin' for progress as much as dollars |
Fuck that tee, rock a collar |
A business man is always proper |
I can’t listen to what they taught ya |
My flow is as pure as your daughter on her way to kindergarten |
Now the conflicts is starting, and everybody watching |
Plus your desire to be poppin' |
Could have the illest nigga out here weighing his options |
We past the days of «Yes, y’all and» |
Most of my heroes ain’t balling, they falling |
Step behind with the law |
Can you counteract the allure and still score? |
But what’s the higher level if your shit ain’t real |
But my niggas be like playing they selves to have mass appeal |
Style Wars, it ain’t even 'bout the bars no more |
Niggas just show boat, but really they got no flow |
Mainstream sailing, gently down the stream |
Flopping out the waterfall, a dollar and a scheme |
But what does it all mean? |
Let’s take a dive deep way beneath the surface |
You see, it’s clowns in the circus and they all lack purpose |
Oblivious to what worth is |
I’m serious, the brightest of 'em when it comes to spittin' verses |
I been sicker than your average, it’s practice |
Nowadays rap is just deadbeats and ad-libs |
It’s backwards, these bastards just disrespect the art that the forefathers |
never even passed 'em |
It’s blasphemy, I gotta blast 'em |
I see through your act, homie, can’t school me on passion |
I’m about that action |
They talk just to get a reaction |
Me? |
I stay powered up, no battery acid |
Sheesh, haha, You feel me like |
Smooth flow just to get them limbs relaxing |
Cut class just to give you these classics |
My homie Chuck Strange told me shoot that actress |
I said I move slow just to cruise through traffic |