Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Every Rhyme I Write, artist - Shabaam Sahdeeq.
Date of issue: 31.12.1998
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Every Rhyme I Write |
Yo, yo we throw slug rhymes at niggas over your airtime |
Knock em out position, drink and piss in the moonshine |
We take time, rewind that, counterclockwise |
Got it on tape, swellin your face, showin you ca-ca |
No shut eye, Cocoa B’s, sinister B’s, nuff trees |
Fog like London when you come in the dungeon |
Hot shit, oven mitts what you need |
To swing with these three MC’s like heavy pendants |
Step to the side Dunn Dunn, you know these bullets is nameless |
Like virgin ass cats who hate, because they gameless |
Put down the stainless, only to grip upon the plastic |
Lighter to carry, metal detectos can’t track it |
If it’s, reason to cock, then it’s, reason to spit |
You took my man’s shit, the reason you got hit |
Now you hold that and live with it, plastic bag shit |
When your boys come around, you can tell em? |
did it |
Yo watch us lace shit like new kicks, my crew’s quick |
To pull tools and stick you for your jewels, and loot stupid |
Punk bitch, make you run quick, run yo' shit |
You don’t deserve it, gettin served on some herb shit |
Like Pee Wee Herman, y’all niggas caught jugglin sperm |
And I burn them dickriders serpents times the rounds is German |
Luger shells, who the hell them nickel-plated duplicates |
Fuck this, we bring the ruckus, niggas ain’t doin shit |
«For every rhyme I write, it’s twenty-five to life» |
«Realize sucker.» |
«For every rhyme I write, it’s twenty-five to life» |
«Better recognize it.» |
«For every rhyme I write, it’s twenty-five to life» |
«.better ask somebody!» |
«For every rhyme I write, it’s twenty-five to life» |
«You don’t know?». |
«You better ask somebody!» |
Track metal, rip through your crew like hacksaws |
Attack jaws, and break both legs on the tour |
The crowd, beggin for more, splash em with metaphors |
Leave em wet like Coney Park when I display the art |
I choke notes, batter bass, murder treble |
Injure contenders, and turn they whole fort to rubble |
S-Double, rebel for the new millineum |
Rules we bendin em back, we crackin them straps, we packin em |
Duck Down Records wrecks ya bring the Rawkus Steele and Tek shit |
Shabaam slams, my fam’s connected, Duke respect it |
Don’t make my dog get angry in public like he does |
Make shit hectic start buggin then pull the plug and disconnect shit |
I’m like a big purple and yellow, CBR eleven hundred |
You like the Honda scooter, no gears and one color |
When I was younger I was speed to let the heat blow |
But now I’m rappin like Usher, I do it Nice and Slow |
Hit these niggas with a Tyson blow, slicin foes |
Throwin shark skins at those who come here to oppose |
I bled Arabic with ones, told him rock with that |
My brother went up top, and seen papi with that |
My nigga, what, call them bastards 'fore he cuts two gats |
Another Bed-Stuy's finest was fuckin with that |
For the record, we just grab the mic, and we check it |
Kinda unexpected, for the ones that’s dozin |
Leavin you open like a gash, nigga PEEP my style |
I rips it foul, you ain’t sayin nothin I’m fearin |
B-K to B-X, B-X to N-J |
Music to my ear like Tito Puente, comprende? |
Spit verbs for my gente, don’t get it confused |
You lose, fuckin with those that don’t care |
Put your ear to the concrete, feel the buzz on the street |
The elite in my fleet, takin dimes to the hole |
You ask who got soul? |
Sahdeeq and Cocoa’s |
Flow blow yours, flat on the beach like sand castles |
And that’s what it be black, it’s all about |
Gettin deep on, this session. |
uh-huh |
You know how it go, Sahdeeq, Cocoa B’s, Smokin Gunz |
Nick the Wiz, ?, that arabic, big U-N-I |
Yeah, bitches. |
Yeah this is Eddie Griffin right? |
I wanna give a shout out to uh, the Beat Junkies |
J-Rocc, Babu, Rawkus Records in the MOTHERF… in the house! |