Lyrics Slogans - PackFM, Kno, Tonedeff

Slogans

Now what you know about that crazy new
Baby-blue, label who’s taking you
Five steps ahead of the game, without a change of shoes
Makin moves against the basic music that you’re acquainted to
While changing the rules, hanging them fools, saving the boom-bap
Bang until the name’ll get a boost, like
QN5 Baby!
Check the Asterisk
The last to get mentioned, but always the first with the classic shit
Eclectic & multifaceted
These acts is passionate
With a massive buzz on a tenth of the budget half of these bastards get
These hazardous cats got you pumpin your fist
Because the performance is nothing to miss, when we in the building
We have been building, since Rawkus dropped then suddenly switched
Since Def Jam was just Russel & Rick
We’ve been the illest
Deacon The Villain got God given battle gear
That’s probably cause my King James ain’t a Cavalier
I saddle fear, rodeo it, smash the eight second count
When we cipher watch e’rybody in the session bounce
(QN5)
With beast masters
Disasters just pile on you like Pharaoh in Exodus passages
Inject plagues in it, let death dim it
Then scoop classic groupies
Philly the fly fella with the sky colored shirt
QN5 known to give your bitch an eye full of squirt
Fire for the work, hardly known but far from aimless
I don’t do shit for the love cause at heart I’m famous
Ask Tone, at 17 you could tell I’ll make it
Still ain’t old enough to buy a drink to celebrate with
Sorry to brag but shit I just want some groupies
Skip the name miss, straight to bed, fuck «excuse me»
Mr. Mec' to you
M. City, quickly disrespect your crew
Get busy, twist your neck in two, all that rep the blue
We all exceptional, except for you
Q’s on fraud alert, we see the bitch in you
We exposing you hoes from broad to skirt
You want your jaw to hurt?
Test me while I’m bored at work
I’ll get a break from making hits
Burn your squad to bacon bits
You’re mistake, fakin, mistaking for some lazy cliques
Some loose knit, bunch of bitch cats ain’t who you playing with
It’s still ridiculous
(Dealing with the Q and nickle bitch)
Two thousand triple hits
(Iron curtain, sickle, hammer shit)
Hotter than pistol whips, you sensitive as a nipple tip
Your boys in blue set your crew
Frame the birth certificate
Tight like La Costa Nostra
Mixed in with the soldiers
All on one sofa like «move over!»
Prepare to lose close up trying to tear the jam up
While we signing autographs you still trying to get some hands up
We rep the baby blue, so you know how we do
Q-N-5 is how we do it
And we ain’t never leaving, we trying to break even
Q-N-5, you know we got it baby
You know who the hell it is, with no rich relatives
Q-N-5, you know we on it, ha
There ain’t no one above us
And white women love us
You know we keep it moving
Now you can call yourself a label, press up some CDs
Because you rock the same jersey, you ain’t in the same league
Now get it straight while I demonstrate, how little time it’ll take
My squad to get up in your face and leave you with a bitter taste
I won’t stop till I’m middle aged
Looking like I’m 21
Walking around with a cane, saying «I'll battle anyone!»
Blow up independently, the label of the century
Save on money with the cases from the demo’s that you sent to me
I hate wack producers trying to slander my team
With them faggity loops, word to Elton John’s ear rings
Since you bitch, you might as well switch
Pencil them breasts on your mental and next
Just admit you a fake, the baby blue ain’t hating you
You ain’t running no keys
I don’t see Morpheus chasing you
So I ain’t trying to hear it
You got a shorter projected shelf life than Kobe Bryant’s marriage
Session
Make sure the name is printed
Food for thought, flame is cooking
A shame it’s tooken
This long but now frames get shooken, lames get tooken
And y’all take an L like a subway train in Brooklyn
Not a dame is looking, they sweat us at the shows
Shut up cause we know you trying to get us 'fore we blow
We by the bank paid and your babes and they all pretty
Gotta say the same for The Plague and Varsity
Domingo on the track, spin those under wax
Put the single on the map, turn the singles into stacks
What we bring you is a wrap
I’m a nine and a half but yo
I need a size twenty shoe box to stash my doe
Pardon me a second
You a hard MC?
I’m steppin'
till apologies accepted
To lock us down we gotta be arrested
Who can stop us now?
I’m proud of who I’m repping