Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song The Pain , by - Jon Connor. Release date: 05.04.2020
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
The Pain |
| I tell a bitch nigga «get some» |
| Yeah, nigga, get some |
| When I hit the room, here the fake ass and tits come |
| They say that hip-hop dead? |
| Well, I guess they must’ve missed one |
| Drop a double album of that real nigga shit |
| This is disc one |
| Got your city locked up, like my niggas locked up |
| How you sleepin' on me when this shit is wakin' Pac up? |
| Fat lady singin', this the opera |
| Did it my way like Sinatra |
| Shotta… yeah, this nigga got one |
| You a son of a bitch, like I saw your pops run |
| In Flint all we hear is bang, bang, like when pops— |
| Fuck that, rap niggas claim gangs when they not one |
| In Flint, we hear shots, don’t no cops come |
| Y’all say that y’all are paid? |
| But y’all money young, nigga, jailbait |
| With these bars, I’m not the one you want, that’s a cellmate |
| Have you motherfuckers with that I-ain't-make-bail face |
| Servin' up this hot shit |
| Devil’s pot, hell cakes |
| Holy grail, holy shit, I’m smilin' like holy Mase |
| Strip club miracles, we made it rain for 40 days |
| And 40 nights, I kill shit, nigga don’t waste your only life |
| It’s only right, you really a bitch when you ain’t on the mic |
| I know the type |
| Is it real, son? |
| Is it really real, son? |
| Let me know it’s real, son, if it’s really real |
| Somethin' I can feel, son, load it up and kill one |
| Want a ordeal, son? |
| If it’s really real |
| Look; |
| go 'head and step in the fire |
| A moth to a lighter, the truth |
| Look how I talk to these liars |
| My hood, they’re closin' down the Krogers and Meijers |
| You think you fresh, but your flow done expired |
| My flow done inspired |
| Riots, Bill, now let me give you the science |
| Let me explain where I came from, the cloth I’m made from |
| I don’t wanna aim at you lames, I throw grenades up |
| I done been through hell in a cell, I been caged up |
| Yeah nigga, word to Johnny Blaze, I’m amazin' |
| When I was a little stereo |
| I listen to some Champion |
| I always wondered |
| When I would be the number one (right now, nigga) |
| Now ya listenin' to the Flint boy |
| Yes, who else could it be? |
| Any pussy come test me |
| Me am gon lick out dem brains |
| Look; |
| y’all done fucked the game up |
| Co-signin' shit y’all know that y’all should be ashamed of |
| But thank y’all for not cloggin' my lane up |
| Watch me |
| That’s all you can do 'cause none of you niggas can stop me |
| You lookin' like Apollo Creed until he met Rocky |
| Get it understood that my niggas got it locked |
| Key to success, fuck a greatest rapper conversation if it’s not me |
| I’m the coldest, that’s a easy answer |
| How is that for sittin' in the hot seat? |
| Better than your top three, fuck it, I’m my biggest fan |
| I’m from Flint, yeah, better known as KillaNiggaLand |
| Money too short to be the bigger man |
| Connor tried to feed you and you bit his hand |
| So I’m on my «fuck these niggas» shit again |
| Take that |
| Naw, it ain’t no take-backs, y’all almost made me hate rap |
| They be feedin' y’all bullshit and y’all ate that |
| I blame the engineer, 'cause when y’all was listenin to the playback |
| Y’all could’ve stopped these niggas, like |
| «What the fuck made y’all make that?» |
| I just wanted to get to two minutes for y’all |
| Uh, salute to Meth |
| Wu-Tang! |