Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Derelict, artist - Termanology. Album song S.T.R.E.E.T.: Speakin' Thru Real Experience Every Time, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 20.11.2011
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: ST
Song language: English
Derelict |
1: Ea$y Money] |
I’m a motherfucking derelict, nigga, títere malo |
He fuck with Easy, he get a hollow |
Show no remorse, please tell him I don’t |
Give a fuck about you, eat dick and swallow |
Better put them on ST. |
we are |
A bunch of mon-S-T-E-Rs |
Run up on you all, let three squeeze off |
Draw blood like a phlebotomist when I clap mine |
Your life, that’s synonymous with your rap lies |
You called a snitch on anonymous rap lines |
Y’all know just what time it is when I rap I’m |
Goin' down as one of the best that did it |
Wanna go rhyme for rhyme, I brought some rounds |
This ain’t no merry-go, I don’t horse around |
Easy will slaughter clowns, funny how the rap game |
In a drought when it’s so watered down |
I’m a derelict peace to my cousin Derek in the bing |
He go and said it heroin sellin' adrenaline |
I’m Einstein with the rhyme, Bonnie and Clyde |
Me and my fine mami will ride, show me a sign |
Getting money and I’m on it, distorting these rappers, flaunting this |
It’s more than a vick I’m plotting I’m robbing the whole economy |
I step into the booth I turn it into a sauna |
I’m chilling in the Bahamas you chilling in your pajamas, b |
Hickory dock hot nickels will pop |
I’m on tour with front doc and go on selling the rock |
I’m the same old Term, quarter water trying to roll up |
Better hold up if you want to talk shit 'bout we |
I’m history and I get more gs than the average rapper |
Will ever get or see. |
Unfortunately for you, I’m going to stick around |
Keep my weed bright green, but I keep my liquor brown |
Yo I’m a derelict, definite rhyme specialist |
Rap’s still in a deficit unless you mention my syndicates |
Speaking through raw epilogue Easy, Term, see to earn |
Leapfrog, it’s your turn, jump on in |
Buzz on them, in, bust your gun |
I clench my pen, kill the masses with the paragraphs |
Us go in. Y’all just burst my thoughts cursed |
Bar first, guzzle, bartender hustle hustle |
Trying to keep it authenticious slaying the towns style |
Brain in the clouds now my wildstyle |
Fab Five Freddyish, ready set get your green on |
Your clock HNIC, someone to lean on |
Fuck the thuggery you mean mothery |
See the team’s strong the Bean gone star gazing be long |
On your radio slates for eons but these pawns |
To the system’s hating, kill them all for violating |
I am like a derelict, they should put my squad in a group home |
Get your dude low in the I’m dealing out |
Death for free, you can get a homicide coupon |
Make your heart collapse, let me break you a few bones |
Compound fracture, poke through the skin |
Let my nigga poke your girl while I’m poking her friend |
I’m a motherfucking sin, I ain’t sacrilegious |
My life consists of rap, drug deals, and clapping biscuits |
Shot down like a shorty when you ask for digits |
I’ll tell you know that you’re wack, I am that realistic |
So you could save the time and save the trees |
Cause most of this paper is wasted on these fake MCs |
They hate indeed, instead of spending every day hating me |
They should go home and make a beat |
Or write a hot verse, but I guess they’d rather get shot first |
So maybe they just really forgot how being hot works |