Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Aiding & Abetting, artist - Rasheed Chappell. Date of issue: 13.09.2018
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Kay-Dee
Song language: English
Aiding & Abetting |
| Yo Yo uh Yo |
| This is park bench prophecy |
| This is my philosophy |
| The illest tales realest lives all come out of poverty |
| With no remorse |
| And we offer no apology |
| Address the court wrinkled dress shirt suede Wallabee |
| But no corob those involved said nothing |
| Masked gunmen in search of that white onion |
| The nigga moved to soon the lead humming |
| Whistled in ear his head spread like hummus |
| No newcomers crews they knew of us |
| The clientele buy and sell we move numbers |
| But different zones different phones a few numbers |
| Every law that we break we face two numbers (25) |
| With letters at the end |
| Every letter that I pen is like a letter from the pen |
| This mindstate behind bars we locked up |
| On kitchen tables our next meal get chopped up |
| Then pop up on avenues in vestibules |
| On crime blotters but our sagas never make the news |
| Let’s politic you want line go head and take a sniff |
| No genies lamps a glass pipe blow |
| Now make a wish, nigga |
| That brown bag money shit know what time it is |
| They scared to see how it feels |
| The terrors real |
| North side through the ends |
| Every night the air is chill |
| Hit the PSG match’n whip with the Paris wheels |
| My girl walk the path of greatness in a pair of heels |
| She got the balance |
| And mix it with a lot of talent |
| She half Italian the way she work the pot is brilliant |
| Never lost a challenge |
| And never came up short neither |
| Court side floor seater four door Porsche dreamer |
| Far removed from tryna plot an escape |
| So many lost in the race |
| Buckets tweaking dope all in his face |
| The chef growing with the cost of the plate |
| I throw the pepper shrimp sauce on the steak |
| On my word they see young Son popping up in the street |
| Need offices in the suite |
| Put my coffin a hundred feet |
| And watch me cause my pockets is getting deep |
| When I sleep |
| I try to count dollars instead a sheep |
| Rare pressure applied just off the reflex |
| I painted each step |
| Lessons how to cheat death |
| I light the blunt decrease stress |
| Dry clean flex |
| ‘Lo garments catch the iron and the steam press |
| Whoa… whoa |
| The diagnosis came in the doctor certain |
| Yo I body everybody if my mami hurting |
| Cocky wordsmith brolic shotty by the toilet I drop a turd in |
| We starve with somalis I don’t wanna poly |
| Chickens on my wood like polyurethane exchange names no math |
| Wifey on it when I get home she probably sniff my sack |
| Twist the crack choking down this gas chasing Coronas down |
| Hold it down I heard ya dog yellow and he homeward bound |
| He known to treat secrets like propaganda |
| Man up Can’t stand ya drop the hammer leave ya top Constanza |
| Heckler heckle em meet Krammer time to switch the face up |
| My design purvey big faces akin to Jacob |
| Peace to killers who kill killers and split the plate up |
| Look out for neighbors still willing to hit crystal lake up |
| I call em uncles never known to fall or fumble |
| Cop the bundle triple up and sell it all in crumbles |
| Im quiet in the corner saving oxygen |
| Confident contemplating topics you don’t comprehend |
| Minor flips never made me salivate |
| We balance weight recalibrate |
| See a 1000 islands once the salad straight… what |