Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song That Raw, artist - Torae. Album song For The Record, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 31.10.2011
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Internal Affairs
Song language: English
That Raw |
«Aye |
Yo |
Thank you |
Thank you |
Thank you |
We gonna |
We gonna do a little thing right now |
We gonna |
We gonna do a little thing right now |
We give you our little version of a little thing entitled» |
Yeah |
Pete Rock, nigga |
Yo |
It’s called spitting, some say I’m tight, nice with the written |
Written I’m nice with the icepick through your penning |
The chime chime in as I slice and write venom |
With Chocolate Boy Wonder ammunition |
Y’all wishing your competition would come to fruition |
Pulling Ethan Hunt stunts in impossible missions |
In the position to educate, the fuel, flame, fire was featherweight |
I body shit, but y’all making heaven wait |
While I’m making heaven’s gate look like the outside of the spot |
It’s jam packed, the line rounding the block |
The block grinders rewind us while providing the knock |
My shit is dope as what’s stuff in their sock |
I’m the reason why the hip-hop cops kept patrolling the block |
They must have heard I was cooking with Rock |
Nigga, Pete that is who beat that is booming through your speakers, kid |
Case you forgot what the ether is |
It’s that raw, this is the type of shit they ask for |
Y’all make the type of shit they fast-forward |
You wanting the realist shit, then as Tor |
The other niggas just go out of here |
This should separate me from the pack, I’m so ahead of the wack |
At first glance, you might think coming back |
But backtrack your first glance, you see that in fact |
I’m so advanced that I doubled their laps, niggas' memories lapsed |
'Cause I could’ve sworn, y’all knew not to put Tor |
In any class another nigga can go on |
I spit shit sick, ridiculous |
Niggas get the fuck out of my zone or you miss the bus |
I throw niggas under it, tell them kiss the muffler |
, pistol covered up |
You wish the fuck you was my pedigree, that you can never be |
Be never forever, you smelling me? |
Dog, what you telling me? |
I’m not, but these niggas supposed to be hot? |
I lay vocals at rotisserie spots |
Flame spitter nigga, the only time you ever was hot |
Is when your pops shot you out of his cock, motherfucker |
And what they least expected was Tor on his next shit |
The young veteran and the Soul Brother connected |
You should take warnings on who not to eff with |
Yo Pete, show these niggas the exit |
See what they least expected was Tor on his next shit |
The young veteran and the Soul Brother connected |
You should take warnings on who not to eff with |
Yo Pete, show these niggas the exit |
You niggas all need to get out the dodge, tell 'em bon voyage |
Go play in traffic, stand in front of my car |
It’s probably better time spent than when you’re penning them bars |
I’m for this garbage |
You niggas' trash raps is wack, the fact you rebacked it and back |
With shiny shoes, it don’t cover for that |
So what I lack in platinum plaques, I match when I spit on a track |
It’s match niggas, nigga, this is a wrap |