Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Underground Railroad, artist - M-Phazes. Date of issue: 21.02.2012
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Underground Railroad |
| At it again like I’m back the stem |
| This is the remix Peter Rosenberg we’re playing for them |
| Creme de la creme dropping jams like back FM |
| With a strong like hip hop Jay Ronin |
| DJ can’t set one because the brothers are so bad |
| I bump the new '89 Tech N9ne Sucio Smash |
| The Dutchmaster is cuttin' he’s working in the cold mine |
| We got some new schools in the cool put some Maltesers |
| Hard rhymer all timer make you shake like Alzheimer’s |
| Chubb Rock and Sadat X their the greats of all-timers |
| Gotta catch their back spasms |
| Make them feel Phantasm |
| Spreading their germs busting like their Norad |
| Yo, killing every microphone I’m liking every second alone |
| Next I’ll be writing the typing of fighting the next emcee |
| Fighting me on these railroad tracks where they flare those gats |
| I know you can hear my whacks when I tear those cats |
| And so into oblivion aliens millions Milligan’s in pieces |
| So whack rappers chopped up in my ceiling fan |
| I know you feel me fam my dead deep |
| Like my mixer Buckshot and Shabaam Sahdeeq |
| X marks the spot so we haul it out to Sadat |
| We kickin' it in with Famoso on the spot on the Dean Block |
| Mixed in with Chubb Rock on that primo shit |
| Silogy is going back on the Malatino shit |
| We came so far it’s like we take it back |
| Keep it movin' don’t stop the motion |
| If my train went off the tracks |
| Pick it up, pick it up, pick it up |
| Under the underground sitting at the Earth’s core |
| Crack in the ground when earthquakes when I spit the roar |
| Hard times it makes it all grinds |
| Hit the booth spit out hard rhymes |
| My mind is incredible my verses is never questionable |
| Knock out is never technical |
| My words spit out like a sneezer chop you up like a vegetable |
| My salad is seasonable is the spits I own |
| In the Springtime when I’m in College all the kids come home |
| When it’s summertime It give you frostbite to keep you chillin' |
| Of all time my new style gives you a new fillin' |
| When I one time I spit hot and cold to warm your soul |
| Under the under world if I’m rock till I’m old |
| A lot of rappers are done and came and went |
| Never made a cent they content |
| By getting high playing bent |
| Just gettin' by when they have to pay the rent |
| I’ll forever changing the cheddar and I can pay the vent |
| Set up shot I’m aim to hit |
| Ten shock waves through the underground made a dent |
| Self the ballers y’all remember the name |
| I got it hand perfect match mock walk the main train |
| Toll jobs spits flames to maintain |
| And played your position in y’all stay on your lane |
| You all in the game but you can play it the same |
| I’ve been hip-hop portables to stay in your brain |
| Brooklyn I’ll Menage a trois yes that’s crooked |
| Y’all don’t want it I’ll bobble your weight get pushed in |
| Warrior understated no need for verbals |
| Bookworm after learner and glasses but no Urkle |
| '64 old school legend did more |
| Then an average rider you deny it It doesn’t give y’all |
| New bed holders and a M-troduction for the soldiers |
| Still loosened will reduce it but older it’s been a minute |
| It came from a blizzard one for the sun that got high by nation for a visit |
| Get some wizards lyrically come to get wicked |
| Grab the star out of your hand to embrace to new assisted |
| I came with no movers I don’t move with no losers |
| To prove to the losers that they move with no maneuvers |
| Every minute is a new flame the game |
| That they don’t own go their own ways |
| But the youngest kids learn a little something to be own made |
| They should all know me or know of me |
| You still got to love me I’m a wild cowboy |
| My track triggers can speak to it’s self and worldwide |
| World affiliation Yankees Stadium creation |
| The mood of the morning is the same name where Babe played |
| Nas is dead G’ed up |
| Watch me throw the heater |
| My name means a lot these days |
| Through the smoke and hays and I’ll be out |
| Straight from the Kiosk |
| Reggae sounds good and the sun is still out |
| The car is still out still rolling |
| The X is Sadat to be what it be |
| Every time I get on stage I’ll be a G-O-D |
| Don’t worry about my age |
| Don’t worry about my wage |
| Hit me on my page when you need that shit |