Meyhem Lauren, Buckwild, Hologram - Aztec Blue

Текст песни

Love my city to death and that’s my word
We used to get dressed fresh and politic right on the curb
Not worried bout tomorrow, just thinking bout the moment
Used to catch tags on the building now I think I want to own it
It was simple back then, we should’ve treasured it
Now every thought I have’s precise, I got to measure it
So I place ideas on the Tanita then I read it and it says that I should still
carry my heater, damn
I was really hoping for a different answer
Fighting for peace like wheatgrass can fight cancer
Knowledge is worthless if you don’t apply it
Buy it then fly it, fuck a break, I’ll never be retired
Inspired by silver linings that clouds cover
Queens locals drop vocals, crowds smother
That’s my new life, I worked for it though
Still got a way to go
Known for rocking crazy low, and blow getting fellatio
Liquefying currency, making my paper flow
Shit, we like money out the faucet
Open like the doors on my whip when pigs toss it
I don’t sweat that, look ahead, everything’s golden
I’m here living, could’ve suffocated in the Trojan
Now I’m at the district with my niggas getting frozen
Eating cause I’m fly fam, rocking this yarn pays
People act wild but they farm raised, we different
Played these streets for a long time, I’ve seen a lot
Another day, another dollar, so we scheming plots
You can show someone the world, they only see the block
Thoughts become reality, thankful I dream a lot
Put words together, that can build bridges
We tryna grow old and plant seeds and fly wizards
It’s all about your energy, believe in yourself
One love to real niggas worldwide, I wish em wealth
I made grants on the hill in my Grant Hills
The fiends keep moving while I stand still
This was before I got tatted, or formed a habit
Nowadays I’m like the addict who acts erratic
With the base in the attic, I’m eating rabbit
On some Bob Digi shit, RZA to abbot
Got to love it, got to have it, I’m Illmatic
My niggas on the run eating, we ain’t sleeping
Running through Queens like the F train with my left brain
Artistic, sadistic
Saying happy Kwanza on Christmas to misfits
Leather boots, leather jacket, my bottom is soft
I hit the weed hard like Ruslan Provodnikov
And I been doing this awhile but I’ll probably cough
The only hashtag’s the price of the hash fag
I sell your mother a bad bag
And then I skate out to Baghdad