Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Can You Hear Me , by - Killer Mike. Release date: 07.07.2008
Song language: English
Can You Hear Me |
| Ay man, It’s your big bruh, Killer Kill from the Ville man |
| Grind Time Rap Game |
| Bang, bang, bang |
| You know the mantra, you know what we about |
| I just wanna say right now man, if they tell you man you can’t come up man |
| You better go against everything they say |
| (cause they lying to you homie go against everything they tell you) |
| I’m about coming from nothing and becoming something (forget about it man) |
| This music is the soundtrack to your success, man |
| All you gotta do is wake up and decide you want it |
| Is it because momma made me a winner |
| I know that it’s tough, it ain’t a place for a sinner |
| They told me give up, I’m goin' hard for the Winner |
| But now that I’m up, they putting traps on a nigga trying to take it away |
| (While I’m getting this cash, deep in the bundles |
| Getting it fast, trying to do what I want to |
| They on my ass, but I’m keeping 'em from you |
| 160 on the dash, they don’t see when I come through) |
| Everybody know a lil' nigga like me |
| Never should have made it it’s unlikely |
| I never be at the T-O-P |
| Made it from the bottom of the ADV |
| Running to the cars with a pocket full of D |
| Begging them junkies buy dope from me |
| Told 'em I’ll give 5 what they pay for 3 |
| My bitch she was grinding all the way to a key |
| These niggas had a fucked up vision ' bout me |
| Thought I was gonna be still in the street |
| With a broke bitch and a box caprice |
| Trying to live good off a quarter key |
| Shitting me talking 'bout thats all I be |
| Nigga, I’m what an Atlanta Georgian be |
| Playin' took my motherfucking heart you see |
| Young Killer Kill from the ADZ |
| Ay, Ay, ok yeah like most black males |
| I done made my fair share of crack sales |
| How could you not wanna see me prevail |
| How could you wanna see me locked in jail |
| How could you ignore my people in hell |
| In Adamsville, in Dixie Hill |
| How could you take all the honor and jobs |
| And expect us not to steal and to rob |
| And expect us not to be Dereck Dobb? |
| Or Terry White or Charles Black |
| How could expect us to say no to that |
| Knowing we poor, knowing we black |
| Knowing your husband was sponsoring that |
| Now Iran-Contra is haunting you back |
| Now we took the crack and put it in rap |
| Now your kids is high off that |
| All whack rappers, sucker politcal commentators, fake critics |
| You niggas is just plain asleep if you don’t notice |
| When you wake up you might have duct tape on your mouth and a ski-mask in your |
| face |
| Grind Time Rap Game, fucker |
| Bang, bang, bang |
| Let’s go |