"Hands In The Air" Videos
Comin' from the top of my, dome when I'm droppin' my
Own type of style and ain't nobody stoppin' my
Rise to the very top, hit em' up wit all I got
Superstar, no I'm not green weed black glot
Everybody wanna piece dirty like a pair of cleats
Niggas run they mouth a lot like bitches and parakeets, wow
How you want it pimpin'? Wow I'm so cold with it', wow
Make other boys wanna do it just because I did it
I'm like a legend or some kinda prophecy
Sent here to set you free fresh player follow me
Into another world deep inside yo' own soul
This shit here way bigger than tattoos and cornrows
This not 'bout makin' dow, Not 'bout no fakin' yo
Not 'bout who rich or po', Not 'bout who niggas know
This here 'bout you an' me, This here 'bout poetry
This here 'bout who we be if you in here wit me
Keep your ears wide open this is all real no jokin'
Thow yo' mothafuckin' hands up in the air
If you feel me throw yo' hands up in the air
Better keep your ears open, this is all real, no boastin'
Throw yo' hands up in the mothafuckin' air
If you feel me throw yo' hands up in the air, the mothafuckin' air
Nigga, you don't know me, why you niggas wanna be
All in my grill like you the paparazzi?
Boy, I was full a game way before this rap thang
Real 'fo the money came that's why I will never change me
Ain't nobody like even though they try to be
Niggas think they are but they ain't fuckin' with me lyrically, yo
I was born with it, didn't nobody teach it to me
Ova' hot beat tell you 'bout what the streets did to me, yo
Choose me to be a prophet and lead my people
Murder, non-believers with lyrics that are lethal
I hit 'em heavy wit it yo, I stay ready wit it
Come, try to test me wit it regret you ever did it
Call, who pimpin'? I got my own bat
You got the baby paper I got them grown stacks
But this ain't 'bout no bread not 'bout what ni
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