| I want you to tell them
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| Statik Selektah
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| Lets do this, man—for real
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| We smoke big blunts, cigars, it’s us
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| It’s obvious, kids, we regulate up shit moving through brush
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| The beats is grim, the ambiance plush
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| The speaker won’t bang, the sneaker won’t lust
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| Snitches wish dead, the eagle gon' bust
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| Catch you in the wrong spot, you dust
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| Statik ill, bring the havoc, this is magic
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| Fake niggas flee out, fly out the mouth, I get you gatted
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| Sports cars, reendorsed yards
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| Everybody four stars, Rae like forty, jewelry gaudy
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| Your creature game corny, I eat your dame, you hop up on me
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| Head off the rip, grab the whip, rest maturely
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| Hanging around the vets in the sweats
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| Since '97 we was rolex-ing the extra
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| Fuck around a hundred Tecs flash
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| Flex, cash, drugs, money and sex
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| Dumb check smashing
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| Watching the game from a bird’s eye view
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| They say it’s hard to keep trust so my third eye grew
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| Chakras open, binocular scoping, sour smoking
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| Hoping my best buds ain’t only in it for the tokens
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| 'Cause they say it’s who you joking with, tokin' potent with
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| Tag team and strokin' chicks, the ones that do some bogus shit
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| Act cool on the strip, but want to put two on your hip
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| Macking jewels in your whips, booming your hits, screwing your bitch
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| Froze under my toes, bitches where my penis is
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| Kicking it since the womb, now you see what defeat is
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| And what the fetus is? |
| Would these niggas feed us shit?
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| Rob a nigga for his number 2's to put my feet in, shit
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| Flow slippery, rise to the tippity top
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| I’mma make hot drops, make snakes history
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| Dreams of living civilly in Sicily
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| Laughing with a fan like
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| It’s the elephant in the room
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| Created by a collision of the sun and the moon
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| My sonogram was an image of a gun in the womb
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| That was soon to be doper than heroin in a spoon
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| I’m astonishing, honestly my future looking promising
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| As my skin tone and a crystal clean onyx is
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| Darker thoughts let the beats break like a Amish’s
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| I’m a stroke of genius like Mickalene Thomas is
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| Hip-hop and body rocking and doing it dude
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| I am the living definition of improving the groove
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| I use the same tools to shoot that Kubrick used
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| Take your hero to the river, give them two b-rick shoes
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| Who lose? |
| If you really ain’t nobody till somebody love you
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| I say you ain’t nobody til they speaking highly of you
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| And what I’m sure you wouldn’t want is any kind of trouble
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| Unless you got a crash dummy or a body double
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| You got a couple homies down to catch a homi- for you
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| Well I’mma fold niggas into origami for you
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| The most notorious, Poet Laureate
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| Whole story is glorious, stoic warriors
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| And I got my eyes wide open on you quasi-
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| Haters still smirking like the gators on an Izod
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| Lacoste, y’all tomato head niggas are
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| Imposters, long drawn out process
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| Triple OG’s got a worn out conscience
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| Reminiscing to when we was all out monsters, on
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| Our Sierra Leone reigning tyranny
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| I strike fear in their hearts, rappers stear clear of me
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| Black Sankofa, Ayatollah, Range Rover, game’s over
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| Bill folder, give niggas that Ebola virus
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| Huh? |
| You got me chopped like Miley Cyrus
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| Naw, I’m on your block with Somali pirates
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| For real man Statik man, what’s good?
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| Yeah you know I gets it on
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| I ain’t playin', I’m truly the worst
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| I was born about that
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| Raw like fuck kid, represent |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Bird Eye's View , by - Statik Selektah. Song from the album Extended Play, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп