Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song No Static , by - Nappy Roots. Song from the album The Humdinger, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопRelease date: 04.08.2008
Record label: Nappy Roots
Song language: English
No Static |
| Too much of anything makes you an addict |
| Take a nigga back down Tobacco Road |
| I give my old soul what it’s asking for |
| I’m trying to find where them angels sing at |
| Where X and King at |
| So listen for the knowledge I bring back |
| Cuz cigarette pack and a deuce bottle |
| Blue collar, ain’t too much we can do, Father |
| Taketh me, I live life so anxiously |
| Tell me this is bout more than sex and buying weed |
| Maybe, but anyway we, burn daily |
| Sip Bailey’s, early sex, unwanted babies |
| Scream push till I push daisies, Pops raised me |
| Through this blind crippled and crazy world |
| I’m just riding along, see where it takes me |
| Keep buying cars and rims until it breaks me |
| I fold like bread on a loose sandwich, too damaged |
| Still I gotta slow down and find a balance |
| No static, got an automatic |
| Too much of anything makes you an addict |
| (Skinny Deville) |
| We spend a lot of long nights trying to make it hot like an open flame |
| Smoking Jane posted on this porch I got this close to fame |
| Without the Leroy, but we live forever Wooden Leather |
| Slum is in my Village like them niggas up in Detroit (what up though) |
| And I’m going for the gusto, every day is cutthroat |
| But I don’t give a fuck yo |
| Gutter bread, slice it different ways I got some shit to say |
| Split the Swisher, pack the hay, roll it up and hit the bitch |
| Addicted to this country living, givin' it my all dog |
| Raw till a fall y’all from here to California |
| Went back again, traffickin' like Raj' «What's Happenin?» |
| I’m traveling, looking for that Kill like I’m Bill ill |
| In my own right left without my soul tight |
| Roll through a cold night, swervin' on a country road |
| Six pack of Michelobs, a Ol' with some funky Dro |
| Too much of anything can make a playa lose control |
| No static, got an automatic |
| Too much of anything makes you an addict |
| (Scales) |
| See I love my reefer, love my Guinness |
| And I don’t fit into society, I’m a menace |
| Slap my balls on your rack like tennis |
| And turn the Henny up and don’t stop till I’m finished |
| I’m pissy drunk, one shot might get me crunk |
| Not to mention shorty rollin' up 50 blunts |
| We got Nappy in this bitch |
| Sticks to the bricks |
| I’m a cowboy, dog |
| It’s to the fence |
| (Skinny) |
| We rollin 90 in the slow lane, with just enough to traffic |
| Cross the line bout forty times a week on the average |
| Forward and backwards, pack is like a sack lunch |
| Ridin' dirty, high as fuck, puffin on a fat blunt |
| What yo ass want, Nappy serve it all day |
| Always keep a Caddy Hog and dog it’s all wood |
| Too much of anything can make you think it’s all good |
| Got a automatic Skinny Deville and we all should |
| No static, got an automatic |
| Too much of anything makes you an addict |