Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Climate, artist - U-God. Date of issue: 29.03.2018
Song language: English
Climate |
| Hip Hop is dangerous, should be respected and cherished |
| Keep it tucked in your pocket for the next to inherit |
| Sacrifice what I write, a Martin on the terrace |
| Dreams have been built and many of us perished |
| No pun intended, it’s a rough path to heaven |
| so I studied all my lessons, earned a button with a seven |
| I be a father figure, Mr James Evans |
| We ain’t go nowhere, we them same legends |
| The climate of hip hop since done changed |
| But the art and the bars will still remain |
| Feel the wrath of the cane |
| As it travels through your veins |
| Champagne salute to those who whetered the game |
| We call it hip hop, was sent out the dark |
| We call it hip hop, was sent out the dark |
| We need that gangsta music |
| Don’t let them filter the spirit |
| Tell your favourite hype stations |
| in the hood, I wanna feel it |
| Support can bring a brother to tears |
| Rap glaciers of ice that been melting for years |
| Hip Hop is the master, evolution’s constant |
| and the scene compelling |
| They say New York really lost it |
| So we sat at the table with the top heads and bosses |
| To save the Def Jams when the bosses got exhausted |
| 'bout to address this |
| Don’t let me open up the faucets |
| Pass the torch, get on my grind and I endorse it |
| Back from the state penn |
| cooking with my apron |
| Catching the jackpot |
| Introduce the elder statesman |
| Cats wanna deal, wanna peel back a vocalist |
| I never slip slide when I ride and I open it |
| Triple XL on the Dell on my poker chip |
| thought process got depth for a scholarship |
| Squeeze in, burn it, shotgun permits |
| I buy a hoodie, I never copped German |
| I used to run through life like a blind man |
| But now I walk like i’m stepping on quick sand |
| Bullies, get fully loaded with lead |
| Jackpots, scud bottom, I’m two steps ahead |
| Anticipate, don’t wait, don’t let the bubble drop |
| I’mma hit more shots than a rookie cop |
| We call it hip hop, was sent out the dark |
| We call it hip hop, was sent out the dark |
| hip hop, was sent out the dark |