Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song General Principles, artist - GZA. Album song Grandmasters, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 05.12.2019
Record label: Soul Assassins
Song language: English
General Principles |
| Castle points you too |
| You’re black takes on C4 |
| Then white could C4… |
| I must put in time to get mine, many hours to earn power |
| Like the ashy hand, he should wear only the rope flower |
| I can’t be a broke nigga, better in showers |
| Sellin’CD’s on the corner of Sunset and Dower |
| A small fry nigga in a baked potato world |
| Sizzling in some beef full of grease like jheri curls |
| Shout out to DJ’s who kept it real |
| Shook a few in the thou', but some never broke the seal |
| Fuck them, I stick to college radios, mix shows |
| Historic university, to freestyle sick flows |
| Might give a lecture about your rap texture |
| M.C. |
| B-Boy, DJ, slash director |
| The name was a bell that rang through the hall |
| Popular is the tag in the bathroom stall, check it This language is so captivating |
| When we lose a rap nigga, the news is devastating |
| Whether to the prison or grave, you know this rap shit |
| Is built from the strength of those to hunger the crave |
| My Clan got rhymes for days, to be skilled, it pays |
| Most of them can’t escape the solar rays |
| Name a crew that can stop the force that I strike with |
| Let alone try to hold the pen that I write with |
| You can even chop off my fingers I type with |
| Those I hold a mic with, thinking I might quit |
| They didn’t know, that only makes me more determined |
| Ich lebe fur hip hop, you can ask the Germans |
| Some say I never got this for recognition |
| So I, drop another, they shocked and still listen |
| Plus I, ran into a well known musician |
| He said this sample shit got too many cooks in the kitchen |
| Now he’s back to flipping love borns and cypher says |
| To support his kids, much even hyper wiz |
| A bad amigo, will stroke your ego |
| You see the flash in the dash, weed blast with Buick-Regal |
| The same brother you was throwing your key to Brought the 7 niggaz in the building to see you |
| You know these god damn streets is so gritty |
| With sour milk from titties, that’ll spoil the city |
| The hood cornerbacks, strong attack is a blitz |
| But we don’t lie down for shit, not even direct hits |
| From graffiti in New York, on the walls and trains |
| DJ’s in California, to the shores of Maine |
| B-Boys on the floor, who be doing they thang |
| To MC’s, behind ropes, who had titles to claim |
| My teams about shoot outs, the fans shout with loud mouths |
| The clock ran out, the ref throw the sign, it’s over time |
| The rambling, visiting teams scheme |
| The championship ring fiending, they must be dreaming |
| These rap players and slayers got alot of endorsements |
| Make them hire law enforcements |
| Plus, I just turned down tracks, can’t remember the |
| Producer with the beats is wack, sound similar |
| It gotta be exciting, striking, lightning |
| Bring the best out, to dawn through Harlem |
| Writing, light stroke from my pen might choke |
| The tape lent, got a little air, then half the spins |
| M.C.'s be stuck with fear fascination |
| The nature in the scale of events, shook the station |
| I stick up the track, armed only with the pen |
| Terrorize it vocally with the force of wind |
| This is hip hop… |
| (Then white takes C4, and C5, and C6. |
| C5, Queen E5, E5, 95, Bishop takes C4 |
| Masters 3, and then castle…) |