Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Frenz vs. Endz, artist - Lootpack. Album song Soundpieces: Da Antidote, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 05.04.1999
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Stones Throw
Song language: English
Frenz vs. Endz |
Hey yo, it’s about sex, lies, money, murder, jewels, cars |
Clothes, hoes, hats, blunts, and gats |
These are the things when you think of raps |
Now a days, if you ain’t Geein', then apparently you ain’t seein' |
Like a normal human being, mad lives waistin' |
Too many niggas that’s freebasin' |
Modern day slavery run by racists |
While you’re actin' like you got a chip on your brain |
You don’t wanna see a nigga succeed without no pain |
Off others' misery you probably gain |
The games people play always pissing me off |
Make me wanna start rushin' like my name was Gorbachev |
I’ve got to go for self, now a days by myself |
Cuz it’s bad for my health to collect mad wealth |
Brothers playin' the role like we friends to the end |
But in the end it equals frenz vs. endz |
Yo, you’re irritating, do you know what you’re doing? |
That’s why my head don’t really nod when you bust |
Let’s check your background, no outlook on future plans |
That’s why you won’t last cuz your hip hop is jammed |
Plugged up with wackness, how could you let this happen? |
I thought you was the man, now I hold your rhymes for target practice |
I can’t role with the, I can’t hang with the |
Fake nigga, *bitch* nigga, ain’t got their backs when it’s time to throw down |
Verbal wars, they never came around |
Ya side of town, now show me how you get down |
What’s this, now ya speechless? |
Show me what’s the reason |
Lacking skills, ain’t reaching nothing but deacons |
As I go for self, now a days by myself |
Cuz it’s bad for my health to collect mad wealth |
Niggas playin' the roles like we friends to the end |
But in the end it equals frenz vs. endz |
I’m Wild Child the rhyme constructor |
Madlib’s the beat maker |
Funk fakers in the place, hey yo, this rhyme might make ya |
Snap back, check ya crews one time pay out your fees |
I step on the mic, eat MC’s up like Mickey D’s |
Fake MC’s, can’t you please realize we rock the seas |
Stepping on the microphones with 1, 2's, and 3's |
The mellowist, moodiest brother rhyming with that rhythmic technique |
Sort of unique, you’ll hesitate to speak |
When Jack rips the rhyme time for a little |
Get together with my crew cuz I’m like yeah, we gonna spit the |
Freestyle, freestyle flows from the top |
Them spontaneous rhymes that make you wanna hop |
Now say what you say but A.K.A. |
Jack be known |
To rarely write them rhymes because I’m freestylin' prone |
Tired of MC’s who never pass the mic |
And yo, we be like, «Time to kick that ass» |
I gots to for self, now a days by myself |
Cuz it’s bad for my health to collect mad wealth |
Brothers playin' the role like we friends in the end |
But in the end it equals frenz vs. endz |