Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Rosie at Rubber Tracks, artist - PRO ERA. Date of issue: 01.04.2013
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Rosie at Rubber Tracks |
| It’s all illusions, fixed gear cruising |
| Fixed reality shrouded from governmental pollution |
| I ain’t a saint, the holy ghost up in my aura rebuked it |
| It’s the era of indigo and they go with the preachin |
| I ascend as the seasons, go on and I vanish |
| Cause I notice I’m slowly becoming way more imbalanced |
| A king with the crown, firm grip on the chalice |
| Solid gold angel coming back to burn down this Babylon |
| Has told many tales, his flows you could sells |
| Mastering wind elements, I move with the gales |
| ‘Cause I’m a socialite in the night, bitch get right enable |
| I’m boxin yo dorm, Put my Nikes on the coffee table |
| My tongue’s below her navel, she makes it where her skills enable |
| Seals my hands on her extremities, we’re choppin up these remedies |
| Came in between her and I |
| We leave it to the constellations like should we continue relations? |
| I think not cause all I do is smoke pot |
| And make beats, and yo ass just want back shots |
| Smoker’s club, Michael Jordan how I’m killin 4 quarters |
| You stashin' the trash, hoarder |
| Yo girl startin to bath water, it’s Dirty |
| And that’s not an introduction, it’s nutchin |
| Dirt on my shoulders, like Hova |
| My niggas turn boulders soft, that’s the shit that me and jovid saw uh |
| And now its like Pro Era in stores |
| All my niggas opening doors |
| All my bitches is braless, flawless more or less |
| Balance was the key, more action less speaking |
| Everybody wants a piece |
| Peace |
| Check |
| (Peace) |
| Yo |
| When I release the flows I goes over yo dome far |
| The nigga to represent the barrio, we hold bars |
| I shine further, you sons get in the bogard |
| You gotta pick yo road, give it a go, keep the point gawd |
| Better with the regis my mind, they manifestin |
| Beast coast, yea we the pros, you don’t wanna mess with |
| We leave you breathless, don’t second guess the best who blessed it |
| Less than yo adolescence when I speak my progression |
| Bring it down baby |
| Bring it down baby, uh |
| This is what I asked for, asked for |
| Chillin at my backdoor, back off, mine tweakin on bath salts |
| Confuse my intelligence, maybe I’m irrelevant |
| So eloquent, being riders with a elephant |
| The higher rank tryna pull a trump card |
| When I try and do the things, I deserve all respect |
| Intricit my amount, boy to any amount |
| To any account, probably I gets em out uh |
| I can see it through the pyramids |
| I can see it through the pyramids |
| I can see it through the pyramids |
| I must admit, I must admit |
| The mental state of a nigga that was scheduled for great |
| Following schedules, never scheduled for break |
| But still embrace he’ll put ya' neck in a brace; |
| Regular days went to getting paid regular |
| Respectin the Era where the Era’s been ascendin up |
| Got all types of fans that’s always sendin us love |
| And ex girls that I loved I now offend with a glove |
| And stay deeper, pistol head in the buck |
| ‘Cause Mr. Hinds always gotta float to let the people know that nigga head is |
| above |
| Regular sea height, cause they 3rd eye never seen height |
| Cause only this Brooklyn street light gave me shine to shine for these nights |
| Came with the free ice to bag bodies on the beat sipes |
| Bring it down baby |
| Bring it down baby, uh |
| Lookin for who’s in charge, don’t be shocked, I’m the plug |
| Get inside like the socket, the surgeon, the sergeant |
| Energy — I put all in |
| I’m learning the flaw things |
| In the storm you stand out, you can struck and stand up |
| I know how to conduct, feelings electric |
| Well we’re connected, your buttons are pressin |
| Can test the reception, I sent you a message |
| Let me know if you get this a question |
| Seen it all in the retrospect, took retro steps |
| Like it’s '93 still, got '93 til mic skills |
| Even got the ecko check |
| Like for real there no testin, my tribe is not some Tribe called Questions |
| My professions are not no seconds |
| To know veterans and they minutes of fame |
| I’m a menace, insane, minus the brain as I diminish the flame |
| Make it rain, champagne, 'til it falls down the drain |
| Got my head up in my dreams |
| Everything ain’t what it be seemin' |
| Don’t blame me girl, blame my semen |
| You got good jeans so your inseams made seamless |
| And off top, you’re ingenious |
| We took a hit of of the greenest |
| Now she at most fear on the atmosphere but don’t intervene us |
| Break her body down to the genus if she leaving |
| She didn’t get the pic and now I see Sophia |
| She get the tone, sorry Bonita but |
| Sophia got a applebum |
| Sophia got a applebum |
| I’m thinking I should take it home |
| What you saying? |