Текст песни A f AZ - The Latch-Key Child
A f AZ - The Latch-Key Child слова песни
Yeah yeahWord up (Yeah son)Yeah yo how this goin down nine-sixHow we livin son (exoticness)Nine-six exoticness (representin’)Know what I mean? (A+)A+ (yo how we livin?)This is New York CityNinety-seven SosaA to Z up in the spot representinTakin it back from here its sposed to beTakin ya back son take it backCheck it[Chorus]Six digit trickin coke and henny mixin many listenFuckin give me mine dont wanna see no penny missinIts old tradition how we click and fall in positionThe rap coalition, we gettin rich an[A+]Poetically Im deadly like a crucifictionBuddha addictionDismissin competition when they roll wit frictionMy whole crew be schemin flippyLike ixing for that chickenSmith brothas and A on ya Mason-DixonWho want the steel cap feel the real rapPatiently my whole crew waited and we rock premeditatedChucked underground like the rap genie And watch the shore by the rising tide now the whole world can see meWhen they get foul thats when my style gets wildI hang a man in front of a crowd without a trialKAPOW, yo thats all she wrote end the quoteFor frontin, a brotha got a dome and his legs broke[Chorus: 2X][A+]Yeah son I want it all your crib, cars and beepersWit hundred dollar sneakers my sounds blowin ya speakersBurgundy landcruisers chrome rims on blue rugersLyrical hollow tip slug point trugers[AZ]Yo yoYo drug connectsDiamond cut bergets drippin wetMy hole is there from Cu-bec got her flippin checksWhat, I push a black Lex with gold on my neckYou rockin wit a vest tryin to catch a hole in ya chestFirm official, exotic girl but wanna be the ritualLeavin lights shine light theyve been psyched to slip through[A+]I will abolishMCs get straight up demolishedYo my mind is like a nine I load it up wit knowledge[Chorus: 2X]The realism must continue where I live is like a battlefieldWe all poor but on my block is like a half a milSurrounded by the most criminal type of elementsBlunts, stunts, gunshots, broken-down developmentsIts all illegal, young juveniles wit the desert eaglesStreet sweepers, heaters, soon-to-be retreatersIts routine, people seem to go through a cycleSo confused, to choose between the bible or the rifleWatch em stifleYo me an son gone escalate thisAnd get these papers run some capers while they catch the vaporsYeah son, dont got no time for no chicken trickinIts the lyrical addictionCuz me an AZ be politikin[Chorus: 4X]