Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Tell Me to My Face, artist - Havoc. Date of issue: 04.03.2013
Song language: English
Tell Me to My Face |
| One for my troubles, two for the money |
| Haters feeling some kind of way and I don’t give a fuck, B |
| Take the good with the bad, toastin', raisin' my glass |
| Shorty want my attention, she backin' up that ass |
| We fornicate, I’m all she ate, I’m puffin' on that loud |
| High as a helicopter — I’m standin' on a cloud |
| Livin' life to the fullest, and smokin' on that good shit |
| Got to find a way to do it, and now you findin' excuses? |
| Shorty, get with the movement — stop livin' that illusion |
| The niggas you look up to is under my influence |
| Yeah, your Grammy artists and your Moonman winners |
| I’m the reason they even got a speech to deliver |
| I’m certified hood, anywhere I go I’m good |
| If you knew better you’d do better, you wouldn’t if you could |
| The world is a cold place, got on my leather bomber |
| My intent is foul with a smile, I’ll be Obama |
| For what it’s worth, I don’t do the back and forth |
| Let’s get it over, nigga, tell me to my face |
| Everybody talkin' like a killer, I ain’t with it |
| I say «do it, grow some balls, nigga, tell me to my face» |
| Feelin' any kind of way, and do this shit night or day |
| We don’t play with ‘em, we aim ‘em at your face |
| I’ll tell you now, I ain’t playin' with you clowns, I never will |
| Wipe that smile off your motherfuckin' face |
| Yeah — when Ryan performing |
| Diamonds on him looking like shining armor |
| So when I die, you just supply my body with iron embalming |
| I’m buying up everybody, from the highest to the hired informant |
| By deploying words like a thesaurus, I’ve acquired employment |
| From lying dormant, quiet as Mormons |
| To buying up foreign properties, been my ongoing prophecy |
| We’re all going in profits, war and robbery |
| Fuck my trigger finger, the whole arm’s itching, I got the poison ivy |
| I won’t stop until your eyes go mahogany |
| This is my backyard barbecue flow |
| I’m living by the honorable artistry code |
| I went about as far as modesty goes |
| And that’s good as gold, mind, body and soul |
| I’m outside of me watching my body |
| Embody god body till the inside of me |
| Thinks quicker than the outside of me |
| Pops mollies and drinks liquor |
| So hiccup |
| Either be a rhymer or be Vietnam |
| Now run along and tell your complete circle to be around |
| For day one, had that feelin' I would get that paper |
| All my competition crumpled like vanilla wafers |
| Ice runnin' through my veins, sippin' Hennessey, no chaser |
| You know what I made’s a product of my environment |
| Single for the soldiers on my team that ironed this |
| The iron spit, yeah, and we cry «rich» |
| Always on that fly shit, that real nigga fly shit |
| Wildin', bangin' that Big «Ready To Die» shit |
| Stylin' on these niggas then you know I throw up my shit |