Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song No Guts No Glory, artist - O.C.. Album song The Best of Snowgoons, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 20.08.2015
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Babygrande
Song language: English
No Guts No Glory |
Heheahahaha, uhh |
Yeah? |
Yeah |
Yo, feast your eyes, two double oh-five |
While two double oh-six is here |
My energy be for all to accept and hear |
I’m not ashamed for the ten years plus in that game, won’t refrain |
O.C., speak my mind cause I ain’t no lame |
Never defendin, creates my own lane |
Long live the saga, with a clear slate clear head these days |
Works for hire, possible if I’m prepaid |
Welcome me back, give a toast to my libido flow |
Similar to sex spurnt from my urethra |
Friction, give off heat like a fever |
Good lucks for those who wish, I don’t need it |
Much to my amazement, or should I say that I’m not surprised |
I still reside in the basement |
Wits and charm is what bless this tongue |
Along with the mind state for me to write these songs |
Uhh |
No pain, no gain, no guts, no glory |
This ain’t another war story, this is trill |
My heart, my brain got the will to survive |
In my shoes, you wouldn’t make it out alive, no |
These young rappers in the game ain’t got nuttin for me |
This ain’t another war story, this is trill |
My heart, my brain got the will to survive |
In my shoes, you wouldn’t make it out alive, no |
Dead in the middle of Germany, puffin herbally |
Observe me as I absurdably murder beats verbally to the third degree |
I ain’t no nerd or freak, I’m the word, the streak |
That works Shareef, peace, nice to meet |
I need a, mic to eat, a track to bash |
Your shit is wack, it’s trash, I just have to ask |
You just playin right? |
You can’t be tryin |
I’ll blow you the fuck away like a dandelion |
Be a man c’mon now, you can’t be cryin |
My next album six figures or I shan’t be signin |
I’m so independent I’ll GO independent |
Get dough independent, I SMOKE independents |
The most mentally ill, so gifted and real, the spit that can kill |
Pick up the mic it’s like I lift up the steel |
Aim it at your temple, now how that feel? |
It hurts like a motherfucker don’t it? |
Now bow down and kneel |
No pain, no gain, no guts, no glory |
This ain’t another war story, this is trill |
My heart, my brain got the will to survive |
In my shoes, you wouldn’t make it out alive, no |
These young rappers in the game ain’t got nuttin for me |
This ain’t another war story, this is trill |
My heart, my brain got the will to survive |
In my shoes, you wouldn’t make it out alive, no |
Look, yo |
Man I’m back for it, it’s the black poet |
Sit down spit rhymes just to get the stacks flowin |
You cats ain’t knowin, man I’m back for revenge |
The real shit, never had to pretend |
Shatter your shins, nigga go and gather your ends |
Call your friends, forgivin you for all your sins |
It all begins, right here, makin it quite clear |
It’s twenty-oh-six, make sure it’s the right year |
To your right ear, or your left lobe |
Still swingin hard, then watch a nigga’s chest fold |
Get this dress code, I spit the best flows |
No cat better than Ras to stack cheddar |
You all falsetto with no bass and no taste |
Bring it to you live at sunrise at yo' place |
I give 'em no space, we on a dough chase |
Niggas can’t get it cause they movin at a slow pace |
No pain, no gain, no guts, no glory |
This ain’t another war story, this is trill |
My heart, my brain got the will to survive |
In my shoes, you wouldn’t make it out alive, no |
These young rappers in the game ain’t got nuttin for me |
This ain’t another war story, this is trill |
My heart, my brain got the will to survive |
In my shoes, you wouldn’t make it out alive, no |
Yeah, Dick Swan in the building |
Snowgoons, live |