Lyrics Therapy - Remedy, Lounge Lo

Therapy

Peace, peace, peace
Yeah y’all, come and get ya therapy
Come get ya therapy, that’s right
Remedy, come get ya therapy
Peace, yo.
Don’t make me spaz out, clash out
And tap a nigga wig, while my man blow his wiz back out
Ain’t nothin changed, from the elevator shack, +BlackOut!+
The Lounger had the Mac out, up in the Ooh
Past the cash and the crackhouse
Droppin on this wiz for years
But now I’m spittin from the front to the rear
To get my piece of this here
And can’t I share with my F.A.M.
this year?
Ninety-eight nineteen, I’ll wild Baneen on ya whole scene
Double-Dutch, touch clutchin the mic, spiritual saint
(and five mics in The Source is no match for one king)
Listen here while I’m rippin here, sippin on Cabosi, yea
Style that I got’ll take ya back to the stairs
With them niggas from the drug game
Government status’ll turn thug name
Alias kid Doug Mclean, what a shame
What he did to the whole crew, I told you
Bitch mothafuckas walk around and wanna hold you
Down, I tote somethin, roast somethin, smoke somethin
Promote somethin, and control the whole function
Got the whole shit jumpin
Project kids are bloodin up and some pumpin
Nothin but the hot shit, summertime with Loungin
This is therapy, the Loungin Lo with the Remedy
We keep y’all close like we keep our enemies
Knee-deep in the struggle with our feet in the puddle
We smoke green murder bones, gettin stoned up in huddles
Generation X, money, drugs, violence and sex
You never know what’s next, just +Protect Ya Necks+
Yo these days are like livin at night, in the darkness
Blinded by the light, we can’t help but to fight
Laser sword, rock a pro seasonal ward
We celebrate the new borns and cuttin biblical cords
In form on Sphinx, rockin twenty-six inch links
Filled with jinx, you never know how this next man thinks
O-to the-T-H-O-R-I with the R-to the-E-M-E-D-Y
And now I come back with a rougher rap
Niggas say that shit, talkin bout my click
O-to the-T-H-O is sick
It’s a race thing, black and white face thing
Forever, ya better represent dunn in any weather, whatever
Ya talk, gotta mash you out
And if I see you on the block, gotta smash you out
The whole picture, ya not down and somethin bit ya
How many times must I tell a nigga that I be the slang mic shitter?
But I see it’s goin on this year, it’s on this year
We jumpin over pawns this year
My word is bond and I swear to the mic that I hold tight
I see the livest nigga son, foldin in fights
He wasn’t holdin right
Superstar project kid, his face painted in Maybelline
Day to day queen, hiss name’s Shaylene
Who thought that he had it all
But he didn’t cuz his fam plays basketball
And went the last of the tour, bout the casket call
He thought he was real, in the killin field
The Park Hill, where Pillage kill
Ain’t a damn thing change I’m hangin out with Tang
Yo I drip slang, it’s nothin but the usual thang
And big guns still bust in the heat of the night
To my peeps who need freedom and life, peace
O-to the-T-H-O-R-I with the R-to the-E-M-E-D-Y
«It's the R-E-M-E-D-Y» -] Remedy (8X)
Yea, therapy y’all