Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Boondock Saints, artist - Little Brother.
Date of issue: 19.09.2019
Song language: English
Boondock Saints |
Uh, Embassy |
Uh, uh, Phonte |
We shall prevail |
Came from a bush baby on a quest to run things |
Been in pursuit baby since Master P and that «Uhh» thing |
Remember that shit? |
War with December, that’s it |
Coldest nigga walkin', know these niggas talkin' |
Out the side of they face, I’m here for a reason |
I will die for my space, who’s still gotta get it? |
Who’s still pure? |
Us, and I ain’t having shit |
Like a tour bus, receive if you want hell |
And Keisha Shantell tried to talk some sense in him |
Same day realised there’s no convincing him |
Nigga With Attitude like Ren and 'nem |
Got a click of piranhas, I will swim for them |
I will tread water until the end for them |
You don’t get it though, we are who y’all ain’t |
Gets vicious though, it’s like we true, y’all ain’t |
L.E.G., Dunny, Tigallo, Boondock Saints |
Right tack to business off a six-week tour |
And I ain’t never seen drama like this before |
Got a lot of shit to get off my chest |
Some wild shit to address, so I told Khrysis press record |
I’mma put it on wax and give you the raw facts |
And truth about life and the things I’m dealing with |
Black folks saying that I’m too intelligent |
And white folks saying I’m a little too niggerish |
It got me in a strange predicament |
I wish black embarrassment TV was judged more wisely |
But I don’t know what’s worse |
The fact that they ain’t playing our shit, or that it don’t even surprise me |
Because I shucking and cause I ain’t jiving |
Some of these crackers won’t stand beside me |
And cause I ain’t killing and don’t support pimping |
Some of these niggas wanna call me a Cosby |
Well, I’ll be that dude, I’ll scratch that itch |
I’ll play that role, call me Heathcliff bitch |
If this ain’t what you want then fine |
But somehow, someway we got to draw that line |
And it goes without mentioning, I thought about censoring |
This verse so my label and manager stay cool |
But as of this recording we ain’t even outsold The Listening |
So really what the fuck I got to lose? |
Bitch it’s Phontigga, lo the show ripper |
Ho cause my hoes would change week to week |
But now my flows be changing from beat to beat |
Tell my nigga Jim Bowes he gotta beat the streets |
Cause I know that they need us — there’s got to be more to this generation |
Than dranking and smoking all they weed up |
This is my confession with the Embassy |
You fuckin imbeciles can put your Rosary Beads up, now |
See, Tyson told me hit 'em with the flames first |
Challenge the world, bet I drop more names than a Game verse |
These rap niggas is plastic |
I’m terrorizing cyphers, they can’t blame Osama for that shit |
Left the seven-one-eight for the nine-nineteen |
I’m still home, slid the Y between the N and the C |
Hunts Point I did it y’all, look at me shining |
Came a long way rhyming, part time and nine-to-fivin' |
The game is full of pussies, I can hear it in they rhymes |
Got balls for saying that, who dick is bigger than mine? |
Pause, walking tall, biggest nigga on campus |
Putting shame to all 'em so-called niggas who ran this |
I’ve been nice since the early eighties |
When I strike it rich your lady will swallow my million dollar babies |
You don’t wanna battle me right? |
I guarantee you’ll see more L’s than Puerto Ricans on the lower eastside |
Hunts Point, I did it again |
I’ve been broke so long the rich will now feel the wrath of my pen |
You can tell I got now by the words on this page |
I got too big for the corner so I brought it to the stage |