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summer of '89 - sebastian كلمات الأغنية

[hook]
aye homie if you on the streets and i’m living in a mansion
just walk up to the gate
and i’mma activate the hinges
eating with who i starved with
balling with who i balled with
won’t stop
we can rap our way up to the top

[verse 1: jack cityz]
if money talks then uhhh
he’s talkin nonsense
com’ sense says if it’s worth work, i got this
not cents
nor the lochness in my pocket
it’s not rent
sh-t, enough to feed a hobbit
college got a n-gga digging through the garbage
looking through the mob and tryna find a dime
shrine to make a profit
i’mma be fine
hustla’s mind since age 9
if push comes to shove
i’ll rhyme to make mine
the pressure and time
and stressors from crime
rest on my spine
knowledge is power, so i rise from grape vines
through pavement, that’s why i’m hated
dmv native
created to deflate the hot heads of the latest
i’m belated to the scene
16 seems to bring dreams
one year older, same talent but different teams
overlooked like an open book by a tv screen
you keeping up with my thoughts will get you lost in daydream
i love the way i do it can’t n0body out here change me
i’m lazy, lanky
b-tches older than 18
they bait me
date me
d-mn near try to rape me
i’m not for falling hard
my knees are scr-pe free
no need to hate me
but i’m heartless
no problem
i’ll park a feeling at ocean’s bottom
and leave it there so scuba divers, and ocean monsters cry over comments
i’m beyond it
don’t give a f-ck
2 year old toddlers
mobster
b-tton down oxford
sunday’s best posture
pish posh the nonsense
high school or college
in other words grow up
i’m livin for a purpose
shoutout to workers, and street lurkers to get they dough up
row up against the current, so current public -ssurance is so what?
giving no f-cks about these “grown ups”
we running round rugrats
no pockets dumb fat
but find the lack of stacks contrast to the cr-p of bum rats
the only slanging is my language
murder when i bust raps, so when i fall flat
my karma mat will leave me unscratched
no popularity, but the clarity of my bars is unmatched

[hook x2]

[verse 2: ragz b-st-rd]
spit it wit a sickness
grand master flash
how i strike rhymes with a quickness
my n-ggas we on a million dollar mission
got million dollar pistons
in my camero ’86 edition
with flames coming out the exhaust pipe
light this joint, lets blaziken
with this fire coming out my right
kaimira
stealth creeping silence in the night
my light is bright
i could blind ya main b-tch on sight
she on my jock like helga
trifecta
legend of zelda
show them the missing link
between this hyrule and fools
this is the essence of the cool
so relax and take notes
while i take drags of this buddha smoke
till i choke, and p-ss to the bros
taking shots from above you land lovers
i’m like the helicopter off rambo
gta cheat code
unlimited ammo
just another young brother from the east
bringing beats that’ll knock n-ggas of they feet
i’m what n-ggas need in these streets
sh-t
just wait till a n-gga get his own beats
a yellow flash spark the brain to the 4th
power
will really test a mans worth
but what’s the worth?
all in the hunt to become perfect
a wordsmith
reciting rhymes until the final curtain
and that’s one thing that’s for certain
bare burdens
att-tude of virgins
i’m sure you know the rest
so i can cut it out like surgeons
i know you know him
king kai got ya main b-tch like how, ron got kim
one of the finest spitting in my region
it’s survival of the fittest
when the mic is in a upward position
fixing to beat
beats like sonny liston
the definition of a hungering musician
bringing good music with the use of common sense
i rhyme in past tense
so that you’ll get in in the present
i’m heaven sent, and h-ll bent
crushing mere mortals mentals
all over instrumentals…

[hook x2]

[verse 3: al newport]
same old rhymer just a different track
i spit a rap
y’all ain’t getting slack with that chitter chat
i stomp a track
illiterate rappers give that pitter pat
grip the microphone like chrome
then hit up your home
i settle all my vendettas with those not chasing chedda
i’m on your back like metta
with this piece, you’ll be deceased
spitting rounds like barretta
i need an accomplice
k!ll this lyrical nonsense
squares can’t fit in my circ-mference
fibs are never said
like a rash, i’ll turn that skin red
like joe gibbs
more rhymes and less adlibs
i’m mad sick
it be that sly dude
who raps about thai food
starting pokemon be raichu
catch the thunder like it’s raikou
spit a haiku
that’ll rival y’all idiots
they’ll preach my words like it’s the bible
bringing doom while i’m gripping on my b-llskin
rap, rhyme often
more b-lls than mr. boston

[hook x2]

- summer of 89

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