| Ha, yeah, yeah
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| Uhh, yeah, yeah, play at your own risk
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| Act like you know bitch I’m on some grown shit
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| Ha, yeah, yeah, play at your own risk
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| Act like you know bitch I’m on some grown shit
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| It’s the Thelonious, super microphonist
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| You know us, this rap shit we 'bout to own it You know it, these Mini-Me's tryin to clone us I got a bonus for the bitch that run up on us
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| I got a bonus for your bitch that run up on us
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| It’s the Thelonious, super microphonist
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| Uhh, no time to sleep cuz if you sleep you don’t eat
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| Gotta hold heat, just to make ends meet
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| Niggas livin on the street while other niggas feast
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| Aight wit you it aint aight wit me Right, gotta make money all my life
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| Gotta stay fuckin bitches many types
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| Yeah you know what I’m talkin 'bout
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| Yup, stay turnin these bitches out
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| Dick em down also dick em out
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| Throw somethin down whenever my dick’s out
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| They know me so they restructure and reroute
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| They know me from Washington to down south
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| All the way to London to my nigga Common house
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| Right, it’s like a game we never play out, out, out, out…
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| Nigga no doubt, nigga get live or get knocked the fuck out
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| Word up, just be about what you about dogg
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| Knowhatimsayin, just play at your own risk
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| Act like you know bitch I’m on some grown shit
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| It’s the Thelonious, super microphonist
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| You know us, this rap shit we 'bout to own it You know it, cuz you can feel it in your throat
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| Say it
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| I’m 'bout to let my mind float
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| (Com, say it)
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| Get your third eye poked
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| Fuck game, I assemble dope…
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| Ness, a nigga that’s fresh as the 'fess
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| Studied this rap shit, no need to mic test
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| You can feel it in your chest
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| Your B I, feel it in her breasts
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| Plus you, rhyme like a nigga wit his nipples pierced
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| We lick off lyrics in the streets and real niggas hear us Dreamin when I wrote this, box me if I go too wild
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| Still doin this shit like dude in wild style
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| Invitin wack niggas to dinner
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| I Trick Daddy emcees and I don’t know, Nann Nigga
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| Who can take it where I take it You better goin to God like Mase did
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| Leavin crowds complacent
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| I move em above clouds whether on some surf and turf shit
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| Or thug style you can feel it in your body
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| Yeah y’all you can feel it in your body
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| Like if a 12 gauge shottie shell hit your body
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| You don’t want no one to find your ass a hobby
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| Carbon copy, niggas tryin to clone us You know us, Thelonious, super microphone
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| You know this, rap shit we 'bout to own it dun, for real
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| Ay, it’s like a ritual
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| You been invited let the mortal body stimulate the place
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| With the grace, nevertheless, I stress
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| Let the music put a smile on your face
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| As for the ritual, when it comes to spiritual excellence
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| You know I always leave you with the taste
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| I know you like it hard to the core
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| That’s what you ask for, you achin for the best
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| Hurtin like a sore in that ass, like a ritual
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| Conversation with the most high makes me wanna cry
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| I wonder why, you wanna get to paradise
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| But that itty bitty part of you don’t wanna die
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| So pay attention to my word, cuz it’s the truth
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| Meditation ease the mind, and brings the youth
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| It’s like a verse you could never read out of a book
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| Droppin the line in your mind like a fish hook
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| Word is birth, yo I do it till the break of day
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| Pay attention to your art, never go astray
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| Word is bond
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| Yo we do it and we don’t quit
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| Sucka nigga you don’t want it, it’s Thelonious
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| Ownin this rap shit, super microphonist, and we known to spit
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| I spit fire like Esther on Sanford and Son did
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| I’m raw dude, more juice than Sunkiss
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| You want this, so MJ kept sayin the rhyme flawless
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| Shit fly like MJ in his prime, Off The Wall wit mines
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| I’m grabbin my balls when I rhyme, nine nines bustin plus
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| Ball all the time, now stay on your mind like great sex
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| You aint on my mind I’m thinkin 'bout paychecks
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| Niggas large like an Adex Avirex jacket
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| Yo the gods they bust like latex sex packets
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| Emcees they don’t rhyme and ball, they lyin’to y’all
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| They dyin’to ball, the rhyme we do all the time
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| We do all the fine bitches they fall in lines
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| Me and my mans is somethin like the Source Sports
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| We gettin money a long time and y’all short
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| My niggas bounce and full rise and y’alls fall
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| You funny doo, cuz really you think you can do me When you roll a 500 that’s really a 320
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| Should of let somebody else hook it Numbers look crooked like King Kong shook it
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| I’m from where niggas bang gats when they celebrate
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| That’s how they play, don’t let it be a holiday
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| Thelonious niggas, if you testin us we get you laid back
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| Show you the definition of a pay back |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Thelonious (feat. Common) , by - Slum Village. Song from the album Fantastic Vol. 2, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп