Lyrics Dark Knights - Rapsody

Dark Knights - Rapsody
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Dark Knights, artist - Rapsody. Album song She Got Game, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 16.09.2013
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Jamla
Song language: English

Dark Knights

Dark nights been cold like night veins
Serve niggas chills, I’m I’ll like Mike Caine
Express and I stress the best, I’m insane
To these bitches like Miranda, I’m lyrically Bruce Wayne
Pain I felt it and belted it out in sorrow
Broke days, way too embarrassed to ask to borrow
A dollar for a quarter a gallon of gas tomorrow
Struggles by the car load had me lower than Carlos
Borders we sorta ignore 'em like fuck a lock yo
No plan drawn still stone cold, a Picasso
Nothing quite impossible, something similar to Pac though
Young poet, we know it, sow it so it’ll grow blow
Where the wind take me, money’ll never make me
No matter where I go, so money’ll never break me
Though I been broke like pieces of soap pasted
To cleanse my soul bands like grams we raising
Reaching for better, it’s whatever I’m Kevin Bacon
X men out that want none a part of my making why
Bane ain’t a match for this emcee
And Dark Knight bat wings need a M3
All y’all drool for Ra’s al Ghul protégé
I’ve been cold as Jay on «3 Kings"nigga get schooled
I am the, 5'3"Morgan free-flow genius
Underground killer like Bane whole team is
They couldn’t cop me now they stuck underneath me
I took a leap of faith and I climbed up easy
Rap-so-deezy and Eric Jones, I Gotham City
I save ya all from the bad rappers in ya city
And let you take a couple jewels like the cat lady
Dark Knights rise again Jamla we back baby
Yea
I say Dark Knights rise again Jamla we back baby
It’s so quick to flip and crown a next king
Trip like crips do the blues make us swing
Low as the flow where chariots rider wings?
I decoded the message arrested by modern bling
lives that never use knives to bring
Themselves up a notch only took a stab at a dream
Coliseums, used to pray to him, the Elohim
Witnessed the door to door and I guarded it like Hakeem
The Idi Amin of all these idiots mean I know
Toe to toe go with the best that they throw in the ring seen
Lot of despair, pair me with none of them things, two left
Feets only dance to the beats with B’s we rep
Honesty, my history Cherokee and it’s African
Deep blue cinnamon, every bit of the black in him
Embrace heritage, capitalize like acronyms
We higher seed, no need to deplete it like the Vatican
And Benedict ourself, deplenish all our wealth
Never blame a man for misfortune, do it yourself
Never blame a man for misfortune, do it yourself
Never blame a man for misfortune, do it yourself
Never blame a man for misfortune, do it yourself
Never blame a man for misfortune, do it yourself
Never blame a man for misfortune, do it yourself
Never blame a man for misfortune, do it yourself
Never blame a man for misfortune, do it yourself
Never blame a man for misfortune, do it yourself
Never blame a man for misfortune, do it yourself
Never blame a man for misfortune, do it yourself
Never blame a man for misfortune, do it yourself
Never blame a man for misfortune, do it yourself…
Ain’t rocked a 9th beat in a minute
I ain’t even with niggas
You slight breeze, I’m wife beaters in winter
I’m a product of Reaganomics where the law is a greater problem
Where the niggas is spraying something and they got 'em
Word to Robin, that’s Gotham
That was fiction but I’m talking about the district
Where business is booming for bird flippers and morticians
And I understand the plight of Bane
Except we using other drugs just to fight the pain
It’s coming apart, I’m hoping to God you niggas ain’t playing
Cause I’m more Patrick Bateman and y’all Bruce Wayne
And I do my thing really
Folarin spit pepper, young veteran
You niggas lack season like a torn ACL-a
Level headed, I put this with in yo lady belly
And I bet my digits 'bout as thick as Fat Belly Bella
I’m like the new fella meets (Goodfella)
Good guy turned heel do the crude business
Manute length is a list of niggas that may envy
But I eat danger for lunch, breakfast, and plate empty
And I leave the place with some choice ladies to fellate with me
And I pull hoes like cellos strings, nigga hear my symphony
Of the Opus Mr. Holland ain’t got nothing on
Hollerin' at these hollow heads, we both shallow but I am raw
Fly as fuck, who the fuck is y’all to compare me to them peoples
Niggas questioning they outfit like Jim Carrey on the sequel, get me

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Artist lyrics: Rapsody