Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Heads Up, artist - U-God. Album song Bring Back God II, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 04.02.2018
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Babygrande
Song language: English
Heads Up |
Yeah, we on a high stake game right now my G |
No foots allowed, you understand? |
I dribbled in Philly, doubled down in Vegas |
Tripled off a nickel, down in Talladega |
Tipped the oath, blood, money and smoke |
And I swear the state wrote any rhymes that I quote |
Here on now’s about, stuffing the couch |
Making sure that shit is slammed right in your mouth |
I’m laying on cellophane bags stuffed in vials |
Palms got itchy cause my girl blew trial |
Checking for funny money purple life a marked bill |
Throw your dick in the dirt for chopped grills |
Open like a market of fleas and from |
11−7, son if you copping for trees |
And I’m only fucking with 20s and Z’s |
If you get the wrong idea, you better come with the D’s |
Cause the bank won’t stop and the bank won’t freeze |
A double dose of process and 4 g’s |
I spent a lot of time on the bounce to get it right |
Stay rough around the edges like a bare-knuckle fight |
Call me Smokey Robinson when I write as I’m a journal |
I keep the burner tucked, deep inside the thermal |
And the way I hear you talking to me is irrelevant |
My laser sharp speech, makes me relevant |
Makes the ground shake like a gang of elephants |
And I came with mathematics, supreme intelligence |
So I can mix it in the pot and watch the rocks just melt |
Or put holes on the block it’s just a notch on my belt |
Or invest in new bubbles watch it rock it and sell |
When the pockets start to swell, I’m taking that lane |
Hit the button doors open like butterfly wings |
And the sound system jumping on the summertime thing |
And we always up to something when the temperature’s hot |
At the Maldives island watch the landing gear drop |
Lyrical battles I identify with |
I load up and exploit this fly gift |
The clip is filled with 16 bars |
Lead hits the paper so the loose leaf scarred |
The mic booth is bulletproof |
Anger and frustration, auto fire from hooded youths |
In the darkest area assassin down to bury ya |
Decode a message from the fastest carrier |
This craft of trade with a sharp blade |
A double-edged sword give life in dark fades |
Turn murderous rap only means I killed it |
Up close and personal, Wu-Tang we filled it |
Mic masters Hip Hop’s hallmark |
The Big Bang of rap and the center was all dark |
Then came the spark and we begin to rhyme |
And shine light on the world in the form of art |