Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song I'm Him, artist - Wise Intelligent. Album song The Talented Timothy Taylor, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 02.02.2009
Record label: Blingnot Media
Song language: English
I'm Him |
I’m him, I’m him, I’m him, I’m him |
I’m him, I’m him, I’m him, I’m him |
I’m him, I’m him, I’m him, I’m him |
I’m him, I’m him, I’m him, I’m him |
Knowledge is the base of existence that I build upon |
Ya intelligence through the power of the real |
Wisdom is a purified word or an act |
That can bring rap back in fact I’m ill |
Get knowledge, get the wisdom but in everythin' you gettin' |
Hope you get the understandin' so youll see the picture clear |
O seven is the year, oh, heaven has appeared |
Hold me close to ya ear, God is so Devin ere |
To all the pimps who bare the diamond studded cups |
Lyrically bankrupt, hold 'em out, I’ll fill 'em up |
I’m like the shine on ya diamond studded cuffs |
Fine wine to a cup, Manischewitz I prefer |
Ka-shar la-pasach, you are on my jock |
Black earth on my arm, ask her who da bomb |
I’m from the era where G was for God |
And a cipher was a circle full of Gods addin' on |
One twenty on the capno shit |
Trenton City on the map, look bitch |
Who ever taught it to ya ass like this? |
Somebody tell these muthafuckahs I’m him |
Seventeen inch spoke no rims |
Clark Wallabies, Chucks or Timbs |
Do the knowledge how he tilt that brim? |
Somebody tell these muthafuckahs I’m him |
If hip hop is a culture and the culture ain’t the business |
Hip hop is forever livin', so the culture can’t dead |
A throw-back to the era of the vinyl and cassette |
So let the DJ pull it up or rewind what I said |
Truth, power and so refine |
Supreme equality every time |
Oh, so ghetto but don’t promote crime |
Sisters, holla hands off that, God’s mine |
Lock ya hammer we can seckle the BS |
I can teach you to be fresh, you’re an adolescent mess |
Keep it hood but who you tryin' to impress |
Hip hop’s my house so stop lyin' to my guest |
Substance, content lackin' from your flows |
Money, hoes, clothes isn’t all a brother knows? |
Or is it, 'cause if it is I will suppose |
Or should I say suggest, you’re rockin' with the best |
One twenty on the capno shit |
Trenton City on the map, look bitch |
Who ever taught it to ya ass like this? |
Somebody tell these muthafuckahs I’m him |
Seventeen inch spoke no rims |
Clark Wallabies, Chucks or Timbs |
Do the knowledge how he tilt that brim? |
Somebody tell these muthafuckahs I’m him |
Supercalifragilistic just ask me I’m the dopest |
I was speedin' when I wrote this you can sue me if it’s too quick |
Tonic and a chew-stick how I do it to it |
Guess he still got it, how the fuck could I lose it? |
We can build or destroy, oh boy |
I’m not promotin' violence, I’m just killin' all the noise |
But do the supa really have to clap another rapper? |
Slap a program director for a little bit of burn |
Maybe this three eighty or some half naked ladies |
In this drop top Mercedes make ya turn-tables turn |
Stable and firm, labels concerned |
Is he really hot? |
Muthafuckahs dis burns |
It’s his turn, lightenin' strikin' twice |
Same place location, don’t get lost in translation |
Listen, observe, proper education always cause |
An expert to make self born and complete the cipher |
One twenty on the capno shit |
Trenton City on the map, look bitch |
Who ever taught it to ya ass like this? |
Somebody tell these muthafuckahs I’m him |
Seventeen inch spoke no rims |
Clark Wallabies, Chucks or Timbs |
Do the knowledge how he tilt that brim? |
Somebody tell these muthafuckahs I’m him |