Testo Be Easy - T.I.
Testo della canzone Be Easy (T.I.), tratta dall'album Trap Muzik
Ay, where the piano at shawty?
Y'all ain't neva seen a dope boy play the piano and rap at the same time
have you?
I'ma show you somethin', dig this.
I'm 22 and a vet in the game
Say I'm, supercoo', still a threat at the same
Time, rhyme bout the times I invested in 'caine
Pleasure and pain in every aspect of the game
I'm the answer to yo prayers if you prayin' for change
So, I dare you compare us and say we the same
When I'm, climbin' the ladder, they stuck in the same
Mindframe, they accomplishments are nothin' to gain
Eventually, see I'm outta yo range
Except this rose gold glow from my wrist and my chain
I entertain young niggaz who slang
Like a picture, no frame, see it's simple and plain
My shit bang, spit flames, put niggaz to shame
Flow so insane, lyrics STICK IN YO BRAIN
Now you can't, mention my city unless you mention my name
T-I-P-I-M-P, I'm the man
Ay be easy - you don't want no trouble with me
Just be easy - the drama ain't nothin' to me
Ay be easy - before you have problems just breathe
Ay be easy - you ain't worth dyin', believe me
Just be easy - you don't want yo mama to grieve
Be easy - well mind yo bizness, don't bother the G
Be easy - swear you stuntin' but you frontin' to me
Be easy - behind the scenes or behind yo?
Ay, be easy
STEADILY kissin' ass when I came to leave
Set the standard for Atlanta, rearranged the lead
Okay, so what tha fuck is fame to me?
I been plottin' since kindergarten, you'z a lame to me
I give the niggaz what they came to see
A reflection of one self where they aim to be
As you can see it ain't no change in me
And you won't meet another nigga off the chain as me
I'm so fly, no lie, don't deny it, ya feel it
So inspired by my style, decided to try it yoself
Bet you won't, meet nobody ranked as high as myself
The checks you waitin' on, homes, I can sign them myself
Tote gats, dro smoked that, now I'm high
Seats way back in the Maybach I ride
Through the streets of the westside, I slap five
And throw dubs, show love, nigga HATE ME NAH
What it iz pimp? T.I.P., Trap Muzik, understand that?
Grand Hustle pimp! Ay, whus hattnin' Toomp?
Let's ride out homie! What it iz mayne?
P$C, Pimp Squad Click, shawty!
Uh, uh... A-Town... stay down.
Keep it pimpin', pimpin'!
Credits
Writer(s): Aldrin Davis, Clifford J. Harris, Timothy M. O'brien, Gary St. Clair
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