![It's Nothin' - Richie Sosa](https://cdn.muztext.com/i/32847511764863925347.jpg)
Date of issue: 27.06.2011
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
It's Nothin' |
A lot of people like to call this a game, but I ain’t playin' |
I ain’t on the guestlist, and I ain’t payin |
You’ll still see me in the spot, but I’m just sayin' |
You know, I’m kinda special, So you can say it’s nothin' |
Any time I get it crackin' man, I do it like it’s nothin' |
From Scarborough to Pakistan, Some niggas know it’s nothin' |
Oh yeah, that’s with or without a backing |
Mr. Action, yo, I make it happen |
Catch the kid floating like a corn pop in a bowl of milk |
Three quarters leather and suede, One quarter silk |
Built mathematically correct, like a pyramid |
So my physical line up with the stars on a mirror grid |
Any time you hear I did what I’m known to do |
Big shows, judge shit, down like a cold and gloom |
Close shorty, I’ve never done what I’m supposed to do |
And somehow I’m still alive after going through |
All the stupid bullshit and the drama |
I’m from the bottom, you y’all can’t phase me with a prima |
So I’m still plottin with my dick up a vagina |
Cause it was either this or trying to stick up a diner |
Like everybody hit the fuckin' floor |
El Placa shut the door |
Greedy good bags, hit the fucking draw |
Cause when I’m moody I usually brutally |
Manuevre like my medulis hoola hooping around my noodle, see |
I’m from a hood where they watch what you got |
What you have, what you don’t |
What you bout, what you not |
What you sayin, whether it’s nothin' |
Or you’re saying a lot |
Whether you’re a square with a job or you hot |
Trying to move up to a queen size from a cot |
Sneakin' on the back of the bus or got a car in the lot |
Cause there’s a lot of frauds in the dock |
Tryin to talk like they walk the walk, they ain’t got |
I’m from the pre-B.E.T. |
era |
Hustling was never a fad, I needed guap |
Single moms, no pop, raised by the block |
See it in my bop, I’m probably never gonna stop |
Until the CN tower wobble and drop, tipping that Smirnoff |
Eyes red like the terminator with his skin off |
Cause everybody know the boy get to brawlin |
And bring heat to the track like the Olympic Torch falling |