Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Keep On, artist - Outsidaz.
Date of issue: 18.06.2001
Song language: English
Keep On |
What you want wit the underground kings from the Bricks |
I’ve been at it since Clyde Frazier played for the Knicks |
Packin' 3−5-7's wit the raw hide grips |
Rollin' 4−5-6 on ya cross eyed tricks |
War type shit, so get off my dick |
I’m wet like Pirelli’s on the vet |
Here I go, pull up in the stretch |
Ballin' like the Nets, like ten pass ya marks on my net |
Woman love me, wantin' lust for me like people do money |
They hungry, I might start livin' too lully |
Got a A+ average and I’m bound to make honor roll |
Jumpin' in and out of hoes' lives like geronimo |
Put it on wax, make it sound kinda comical |
Bitches listen to it while they work they abdominals |
G’s listen to it while they out playin' dominoes |
Outsidaz try’nna match the face on the article |
To my people from the Bricks keep on |
Everybody up in Jerz, keep on |
And it won’t be long til the Outz invade |
So we came to sing this sing |
We like (woop!), love our shit or leave it alone (4X) |
You know my block get cash |
Twenty in street wit pop plus hash |
Mess around, see a cop get blast |
Even the girls get stop by tax |
Outsidaz, what, what, what, like today |
We doin' it to girls look like Tyra Banks |
Drop the CD, girls hawkin' a nigga |
They still wanna creep, they know I’m talkin' to Digga |
You think you raw, I’mma test your jaw |
You don’t have a clue like Ernesto Shaw |
See me on ya block, better give me those props |
Before I start another beef worse then Biggie and Pac |
We got macks and 4−4's to bust |
And we don’t buy clothes for girls, they buy clothes for us |
Peace, to my homies doin' time in jail |
And to ya niggas that be hatin', ya’ll can rot in hell |
To my people from New York, keep on |
Everybody in L.A., keep on |
And it won’t be long til the Outz invade |
So we came to sing this sing |
We like (woop!), love our shit or leave it alone (4X) |
(Pacewon) |
You know the Outz spit game |
Without rappin' bout my chain and my range |
While everybody else talk, sound the same |
(Yo me and Zee) and run trains |
(Yo hot like gun flames, we copped enough grade |
Take the story make the front page |
All about a man wit a bulletproof coatin' chrome shotty |
Ain’t takin' shit from nobody) |
And punk ya’ll can make me use the steel and blast ya Coupe D’eville |
Hit the right side up, make ya loose a wheel |
Outsidaz drunk, can’t walk a straight line |
Me and Pace blind off the 1−8-9 |
(Tell the cops that the gun ain’t mine, some may find and go |
All day shine, I’m no joke |
Pacewon, the type of man, that you don’t play close |
Better throw up ya hands when my folks say so) |
To my people in V.A., keep on |
Everybody up in Philly, keep |
And it won’t be long til the Outz invade |
So we came to sing this sing |
We like (woop!), love our shit or leave it alone (4X) |
Jacksonville, keep on |
Little Rock, keep on |
Vancouver, keep on |
Seattle, keep on |