Lyrics Hip Hop 101 - Mathematics

Hip Hop 101

Yo.
yeah that’s the shit
Yo 'Preme roll it up son
This smells good, huh?
huh?
Yeah, uh-huh, yeah, yeah, uh-huh, yeah, uh-huh, yeah, yeah, uh-huh
The bitches in the party, 21 and up
From the streets, sophisticated, Cozmo in the cup
See you niggas mug shot, grilling wide
Cause your bitch got the husk of a thug
That’s a billing plus a villain
I’m about million, keep playing around like children
Your mother, father, brother, sister never know who killed them
Say my name in your jurisdiction
Y’all niggas non-fiction
What y’all niggas know about friction?
Man listen, when I got a pot to piss in
Hot chicken with some rice and beans
I rock the ice and gleam
Cutie booty with the Gucci jeans
She heard of my team, fire like gasoline
Bout to get y’all niggas jumping like some trampoline
How she want that?
Anaconda up in her stomach
She felt me comin 'round the corner when I come
As I move to the bass and drum I fear none
Ayyo I love this game for real
For hip hop — chill
Lie, cheat and steal
Rap pays the bills
Who’s tired of hearing wack shit?
Make me wanna clap shit
We all is some rap kid
Got this in the bag kid
The flow is ridiculous
In other words sick with this
How you gon' get with this?
Hot track, flip with this
Murder words and heard
This, that and the third
Shit flows out nigga
This is one turf
«Hip hop set out the dark» (x2)
«Niggas do.»
(x2)
Up in the club with a drink in my hand
Some bitch done got slapped, screaming «That's my man!»
Damn, that’s the type of shit I can’t stand
What a girl do to be ya number one fan
Brothers put away your guns
Fuck that — we fumble shit and came to have fun
All up in the mix trying to bag my bitch
Mad cause you can’t rock the mic like this
I’m from a class of the great
Here comes a bastard case
Under pressure these dudes crack like plastic clays
I stay roasted, smoke hash, laugh and spray
When it comes to ass I’m like drop dudes, don’t have to wait
My glass hit let the heat go
Whenever we need those
Flow tighter than Speedos
Never let my grief show
Spray shots, stay wop, my niggas hate cops
Catch me at the haze spot
We’re about eight blocks
And a few chicks watch the God do this
Nuisance to the mic, I might lose this
Mind outta control but control the nine
For these chicks my love grow with time
Years of playing out in the rain
Your momma does the does
She says that we were bad
I thought I’d never going on
She wild, so now she’s on
For girl you look so sad
I met Doo Wop when you feel in love
Touchin me, I told you not to grind while you clutchin me
Do you remember the love?
Do you remember the love?
You left me cold out to diiieee
Now I’m loveless, all by myself
«Hip-hop.
hip-hop.
hip-hop set out in the park»
«Niggas do.»