| We bring it down on the two ‘cause we’re not the ones
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| No, we’re not the ones
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| We bring it down on the two ‘cause we’re not the ones
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| We’re not the ones, yo, we’re not the ones
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| I. Drop. |
| My. |
| Style like this
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| Twist, shape shift, bum deals get diss
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| My flow’s been blessed, chopping up at the breath
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| Expand thoughts, chest retract, inhale the cess
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| Digression—best defense emcees kept possession
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| Southeast to northwest, contest to submission
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| I flex, release, tense muscles and cease
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| Stole the master key to free 'em from the industry leash
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| I got a, full mind, with lethal weapons
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| Breaking down crews in seconds while the hardcore beckons
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| But I, stay focused even though triggers attempt
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| Even though niggas are bent, so quick to represent
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| Real emcees, we broke, Moet don’t wet my throat
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| I keep a double-edged sword, no one to mute the remote
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| You need to keep your mouth shut, talking jaja on wax
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| And no doubt, we’ll see what happens with the company tax
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| You know you gotta recoup, keeping your niggas with loot
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| And gambling with your soul, rocks is your papers they shoot
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| You’re tampering with the art, and you’re position’s just temp
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| I got the full-time job from bum deals in zest
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| We bring it down on the two ‘cause we’re not the ones
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| She’s not your daughter, and I’m not your son
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| So why you tryna play us like we’re dumb?
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| These deal is for bums
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| From the cradle to the grave, elementary to the penitentiary
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| The Black man’s been getting the bum deal of the century
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| Now you want to get with the rap techniques you used to diss
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| I see you in these Coca-Cola commercials, and it’s really making me pissed
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| But I gotta give my, do and get my boots
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| Two, in come more through. |
| True, and get my loot too
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| But you gotta remember from which this household started
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| And these labels are trying to gas you up like someone farted
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| I come more strong-hearted than Lion-O
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| is my father and What? |
| What? |
| is
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| So we had no choice but to be good guys with appeal
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| And don’t got no time for nobody’s whack record deal
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| I feel we should make one buck out of every album that we sell
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| If we did, you don’t think that I’d know you’d make twelve? |
| What the hell?
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| I got a job, she’s got a job, he’s got a job, we’re all in school
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| So why is it that you’re trying to play us for fools?
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| ‘Cause most shit stinks like bird stool, can’t hack it
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| And I don’t want to be playin' like white shit up on my jacket
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| Your tax bracket sees you green, while all these emcees see is teal
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| What are we, assholes? |
| You can keep your bum deal
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| We bring it down on the two ‘cause we’re not the ones
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| She’s not your daughter, and I’m not your son
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| So why you tryna play us like we’re dumb?
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| These deal is for bums
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| I’m surrounded by: bums
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| Crowded by: bums
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| Your style is like: bums
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| Bums
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| I need no bum deal for my bung-hole
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| You sold your soul—now they’re in control
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| Jerked your body like a marionette
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| Took your pens and your pads and replaced them with texts
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| No say in the game, rappers sounding the same
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| I’m sick of Versace, Chanel, and Gucci, drinking champagne
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| Love’s gonna getcha, I betcha, double dare you
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| Physical challenge, your player shit is losing balance
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| Get off the job, talk—your whole aura is weak
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| My black people either got to be Italian or Greek
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| Need to step off the scene, contracts and wicked seals, for real
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| Keep your whack-ass fucking bum deal
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| We bring it down on the two ‘cause we’re not the ones
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| She’s not your daughter, and I’m not your son
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| So why you tryna play us like we’re dumb?
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| These deal is for bums |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Bum Deal , by - Jean Grae. Song from the album The Bootleg of the Bootleg, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп