| Sure
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| It’s a sound session; |
| party in my head
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| Could’ve been a listener, rather rap instead
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| Could’ve sold divisions of a contradiction
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| But Nitty Scott realer than non-fiction
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| See I bend the track over, beat it like a drum
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| Finger fuck the English language 'til she cum
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| Put the rhythm to her nipple, tickle her syllables
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| Juicin' up her literal 'til all the similes trickle
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| And dribble where the partner let her rhetoric spell
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| Uh, she sweatin' metaphors, guess that’s what I met her for
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| My shit deep, mainstream won’t peep
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| So I just sweep the street and tell the sheep to go to sleep
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| I just freak the beat and move your sneakers when I speak
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| I just bring the heat, it melts your speakers when it leak
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| Rich in the mind, ignorance so costly
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| So I’m dealin' 'em, killin' em, not softly
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| Cause I’m only two decades with a knack
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| For these tracks, not a Gatt, so yeah, fuck that
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| Non-profit in your socket, pro bono prophet
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| Rockets in my pocket and I know you tryna' knock it
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| But this music got 'em hopin' and copin' and floatin'
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| Strokin' and gropin' and provokin' emotions
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| My shit is dope and, no jokin', you open
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| So power to the broken when the realness is spoken
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| Yeah, yeah, yeah
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| Oh, oh
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| You should tell somebody your story, before you give up all the glory
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| Yeah, yeah, yeah
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| Oh, oh
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| That’s why I go and tell you now
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| Before you ever question how (question)
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| Yo
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| I’m MC’d up, and D’d up, knee’d up
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| And it’s about time that the game done re’ed up
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| My intellectual property, hip-hoperty, while niggas run monopoly stoppily
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| Take my strret cred' and set it and bet it
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| You could never do me, even if Simon said it
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| You could never keep your mind in while you’re vibin' to my lines and
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| Mind your rhymes man, these are hard times when
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| I rap like I got somethin' to prove, cause I do
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| This is me, and my crew:
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| Nitty Scott; |
| who are you?
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| This is duke, this is true; |
| this is what I fuckin' do
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| Sick shots on the loop, this is fresh from the stu' (fresh)
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| Day in my kicks, shit you wouldn’t be with
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| And you only call life a bitch cause she wouldn’t let you hit it
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| Got me on a stand tryna get me to admit it
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| But killin' all these rappers the only crime that I committed
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| Boombox Family
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| It’s just the way I was raised |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Tell Somebody, artist - Nitty Scott. Album song Doobies x Popsicle Sticks, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп