Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Glow, artist - Hell Razah. Album song Renaissance Child, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 20.05.2016
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Nature Sounds
Song language: English
Glow |
| They don’t wanna see us blow, they don’t wanna see us with dough |
| They don’t wanna see us flow, hell no, we glow |
| You knew it was the end the way we came in the door |
| Hit the club and I’ma leave with your hoe, hoe, hoe |
| My flames be hot every time that I throw |
| Ain’t nothing new son, I did this before |
| GGO, my niggas flip money like it ain’t no more |
| 'Cause no friends when there ain’t no more |
| For the lust of currency, they put their trust in this country |
| All your friends be cunningly when they hungry |
| Jealousy wanna stop the prophet |
| Niggas hate to see money in our pockets but they don’t knock it |
| Sold your soul like stock markets, regardless |
| We bare heartless, with or without revolvers |
| We been this way before Godfather’s or Al Pacino |
| Catch me with blacks and Latinos |
| Jamaicans, Mexicans, Malcolm X again with a pen |
| Set a trend, watch you and your friend go copy it |
| Got Boricua’s screaming how poppy is sick |
| The illest shorty on the floppy disk, watch me it clips |
| Surpass and outshine all that light you get |
| First you live then you reathe it out, write it and spit |
| And I’ma leave with the same deeds I came in with |
| You can’t die with those riches you’ve got, them bitches you got |
| Enjoy life before it can stop, it’s too short |
| What’s hip hop without New York' You should of thought |
| I seen brothers get their face cut over Newport’s |
| Stickup kids who live for you to take your shoes off |
| We got lawyers working for us that’ll lie in the court |
| We still repent even if Christ ain’t die on the cross |
| Gamble life like a dice game, head crack, a row aces |
| Dept pays off your sent wages |
| This takes place on a weekly basis |
| In this business of handshakes and smiling faces |
| Hatred from the whole ghetto made us racist, exclusive |
| Got fanatics can’t wait to tape it |
| Spiritual, so a secret agent can’t trace it |
| Blessed be the soul, seek patience |
| We ain’t too far from y’all, starting to worship a gold pagan |
| Mystic God in the form of Satan, until nation rides against nation |
| You got wars and more rumours of wars |
| It’s yours truly, every track out I drop jewelry |
| I’m reality not a movie, you be sitcom |
| A sick con while hip hop sit in my palm |
| Let me hear a rhyme that ain’t about crime and firearms |
| I’m a quiet bomb, y’all niggas can’t disconnect |
| If my voice ever left I’ma use the internet |
| Ask Meth if I’m hot enough to come as a threat |
| And is it safe for you put down and place your bet' |
| You want a hit record, tell your label cut me a check |
| I leave them scared to rhyme, have a verse stuck in his neck |