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abstract rude – what tyme iz it? كلمات اغاني

[intro]
what time is it?
time, time, time, time
what time is it?
what time is it?

[verse 1]
what time is it? it’s time to rock
and when the clock only got a few minutes to drop
and when the a-team pull up in the parkin’ lot
it get hot, don’t act like you [?] forgot
the crowd go wild when the wild style hit ’em
the new style get ’em and the freestyle k!ll ’em
come outside to the cool night air
and jump into the vehicle and spark right there
from austin to athens, anaheim to [?]
a-team always acquire the accolades
any day, all day, all-access
ace, one, ab rude, any address
out back, we out the map
run out of facts, no, i doubt that
so count that in your book of pleasures
and don’t be afraid to look for the treasure

[chorus]
what time is it?
a whole lot of mcs wanna rhyme like this
it’s time to rip
it seems everybody wanna flip, can you believe it?
from rhymin’ and stealin’
[?] feelin’ in the groove
for that [?] sound and i’m hoppin’ around like kangaroos
thanks for the [?]

[verse 2]
time to light the spliff
the good brother won’t give you no line to sniff
’cause i don’t wanna reminisce over you
i know you’re too young to go, it’s that simple
timbo choppy, kinfolk chill in my lobby, is this your hobby?
no this my job
like a last second three pointer by rob—
—bert horry, you know the story
hit the game winner or send it into overtime
make it rain, ice water in my veins
me and this flow of mine
i’ll point you out like a porcupine
in a lineup of wack rhymers
your time’s up, back behind us
project [?]

[verse 3]
ab and ace, grab a taste
i’ll strangle the treble and stab the b-ss
it’s in your face, so move your waist
start runnin’ in place like you’re in a race
break out the big guns, y’all don’t want none
we’ll take out your sharp shot, y’all can’t run
or fake out the pursuit
i’ma serve you, son, with a rhyme like this
what time is it?

[verse 4]
i’m a hip-hop lover, but i wear a rubber
i love her like groupie love, danny glover
couldn’t be no other than the good brother
word to the mother, don’t stop or stutter
sounds so b-tter, it tastes so tight
ace you alright? yeah i’m out of sight
under the clutter, your eyeb-lls flutter
we some cold cutters when it’s time to strike
metamorph into all you rap orphans
and don’t [?] on the porch and
just a portion of m-ss distortion
pimpin’ this mic like my name was [?]
nose on the ground just like a bloodhound
trackin’ ’em down with a shotgun behind me
we hold crown, tell me what now
and you know we come through when it’s time for rhyming

[verse 5]
past times at richmond high
lean on me for a big supply
of cooli high, the princ-p-ls
the funny guy, the h.n.i.c
of the boys in the hood and the menaces to society
today’s your south central trainin’ day
can you stay alive like me?
but you play it street like feet
you might get shot or caught in scandal
but if you’re s.m.a.r.t
you might get by and survive los angeles
showtime my album will allow me an outcome that’s bountiful
i done so many shows i don’t even know if i can count ’em all
now sound off

- abstract rude

كلمات أغنية عشوائية

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