Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Like Me, artist - MaxPtahDate of issue: 15.10.2015
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Like Me |
| It’s Rapper, I thought I told y’all man |
| I thought I told y’all ain’t nobody like me |
| Y’all don’t listen |
| So I suggest you pay attention |
| Get a little closer to the speaker |
| Yep, that’s what they saying when I step in the place |
| Should’ve seen the blank look on their face |
| I tell 'em pick up the pace |
| Double time when you run my race |
| Hip Hop buffet, come get you a taste |
| Cement my place, let you get chased |
| You Touch and Teasing tracks just like Case |
| I swallow beats whole after I say grace |
| Make rappers run back to the lord just like Ma$e |
| Inmates in a hole, number one on the pole |
| I’m just heating up but I’m Chi-Town cold |
| I’m California soul, god break the mould |
| Told y’all in the beginning that I will not fold |
| I will not move, never, however |
| Bit of good news, me and 9th got together |
| I suggest you pay attention to the future |
| Dirty Pretty Things ain’t my only maneuver no |
| I told y’all dudes before |
| That I’m the shit and I ain’t never gon' stop (I ain’t never gon' stop) |
| I told y’all dudes before |
| Now step aside as I rise to the top (as I rise to the top) |
| I told y’all dudes before |
| Can’t nobody do it like me (nobody do it like me) |
| I told y’all niggas before |
| So put your hands where my eyes can see (where my eyes can see) |
| From the moment of birth I’ve been combing the earth |
| I realised that I’m a soldier that’s alone in my search |
| A wordsmith, I’m never at a shortage for words |
| I burn spliffs but I’ve never had a shortage of herb |
| You see, I’m from Southern Cali where the green in abundant |
| And an ounce of the kush put me back three-hundred |
| I came in the game, they ain’t even seen me coming |
| Till I started freestyling, I had the streets buzzing |
| My first single was a certified street club hit |
| I went from having three cousins to three-dozen |
| And my groupie game stepped up, the broads keep coming |
| Even mean mugging OGs in the streets love it |
| They see something in me, a young Bonifacio |
| Brush hit the canvas, I’m a young Picasso |
| With the flow so dope, it can numb your nostrils |
| Ohh yeah y’all, here come Roscoe, Umali! |
| Okay, yeah, I used to think it was a miracle for this to be hearable |
| But listen to your stereo while you eating your cereal |
| Bumping 'Pac hits like they was old Negro spirituals |
| People telling me inevitably I’ll be imperial |
| But pivotal instances can only make you critical |
| When writing from my heart homies saying that it’s lyrical |
| Hustle from my living room, knowing that my liver doomed |
| I ain’t gon' be living soon, take a trip to Liverpool |
| This’ll be an interview, small chronic interlude |
| Dip in the Pacific and I’m floating like an inner tube |
| Work into my dinner doo and I’m a vegetarian |
| Somebody test for spinach, underneath the ground I bury 'em |
| Homies falling off, I guess I got to carry 'em |
| Women fall in love but you know I never marry 'em |
| I’m music to the heart, Jimi Hendrix color reefer |
| And Jam Master Jay face is all on my sneakers |