Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song We Shine, artist - Hush.
Date of issue: 04.04.2022
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
We Shine |
Chorus: samples 4X\n«Bust it rugged, shine like a gold nugget» (what they know about this?)\n«When I bust on the mic, I bust a real hard rhyme» --→ Keith Murray\n«Every time I pick up the microphone I drug it (what they know about\nThis?)\n«When I bust on the mic, I bust a real hard rhyme» --→ Keith Murray\nI’m rockin shit, packin shit, while stackin shit\nIf anyone steps up askin shit, I’m blastin shit\nYou gone phase me, but swingin like Peter Parker\nMotherfuck the shop, I’ll wreck the Goddamn barber\nForget your dreams about being with fans hugged up You couldn’t be a dope mc if you said his rhymes drugged up I told you once, but you forget so here’s a flashback\n«You couldn’t be shit, if you came out my asscrack»\nStop frontin kid, you know you ain’t paid\nAnd the only mic/Mike you wrecked was that kid you fought in first grade\nAin’t nothin lyrical about you but your lies\nSo cut the shit, cause it’s startin to draw flies\nYou’re played like my five-year old’s newborn toys\nDon’t know shit about Chicago, but I could still make Illa Noyz\nLike Robin Leech I display stylish ways\nThat’s rough like my face when I haven’t shaved in days\nListen up, all these words take heed\nWhen I c*** and squeeze, no more mc’s breathe (none)\nI’m sick of this, here’s my final this\nfuck you dumb niggaz you ain’t shit like this\nMy Smith and Wessy got you layin in some alley messy\nGot your family lookin for your ass on Sally Jesse\nWe squash beef in the mo', when you ain’t breathin no more\nLeavin your skull split like Steven Seagal\nLet the cat out, flat out, Detroit’s a mad house\nSo I don’t get offended when I hear my city badmouthed\nWe quick to pull the gat out and set it And leave you with more shit missin than a Lil' Kim radio edit\nStick up kids be tryin to live paid\nYou get your grill sprayed with twenty-seven bullets in your ribcage\nGet the guage, c*** it back, empty your pockets, Jack\nOr I’ma send you flyin like a rocketpack\nMurder you for a bag of chips and a chocolate snack\nBreak into your crib still your shit and lock it back\nTen-year old kids be standin on the block with gats\nJust for livin nowadays’ll get you flocked with bats\nWhere I’m from… Yaknow what’m sayin?, that’s some old Detroit shit\nY’all wouldn’t know about that shit, though. Less you come\nTo my city, ya know what’m sayin? See where we live,\nCause we shine\nmc’s put Detroit up in they rap songs\nCause without us there careers wouldn’t last long\nSo like a generation we’ve been passed on Now it’s our time to shine, put your glasses on Got these A & R’s and labels with binoculars\nLookin in, jockin us and not jockin yours\nToo many groups follow trends, unoriginal\nUsin loops that transcend every bitch in you\nDon’t ever try to say this is a ghost town\nOne million rappers in this bitch, they need to slow down\nEvualute the situation, all the rest are killers\nFly hoes out on Jefferson with the drug dealers\nTwo years in the joint, nobody’s touchin Hush\nTry to say you’ll put us down, but your under us Now who the fuck are you? It’s just coincidental\nWhen your rhyme your even worse than the instrumental\nYour just a phone-tapper with no backbone\nTalkin shit, I got a clique that only pack chrome\nHave your ass gone, nowhere to run, when we hit\nNext time you’ll think twice of who you fuckin wit\nChorus: 3 and ¼ |