Testo NineteenEighty7 - Stalley feat. ScHoolboy Q
Testo della canzone NineteenEighty7 (Stalley feat. ScHoolboy Q), tratta dall'album Honest Cowboy
Midwest nigga in the west
Red corvette speeding down sunset
Ski mask black tech pulling through the set
Gang signs and palm trees, bomb weed and the becks
Mentality complex
Conscious but get vexed over gangsta instrumentals
Instrumental to the rap game, yeah the aim's simple
Target the lame and stay in the lane
As I dip through the ghetto with metal rings and coke gets pedaled
The sun gone shine tomorrow after the smoke settles
My mom's blood level is high
Her high riding around with the devil
So she pray to Allah
Hoping the demons gone let go
I hustle for these c-notes tuck drugs in my peacoat
Dipping from the RICO watching people through the peephole
A wolf in sheep's clothes hear no evil and I speak no
Word to dangerous minds, spend no time with a weak soul
Spiritual and lethal, a deadly combination
Pulling on a joint trying not to break my concentration
They say the game's locked, I'm trying to bust the combination
They want me to tell the story but I ain't for the conversation
So I'm contemplating, quit this rap shit should be blatant
And they all hating so I might as well stop faking
Like I'm like them or I like them
While I'm riding around with it, I guess I'ma pipe 'em
Murder one man down, I'm the man hands down
Ain't nobody like him, that's why I'm this way
It's me against the world and I'm down for the play
Had the banger with thirty shots, nigga at nineteen
Had them cookies, add more dough, numb ya, morphine
Had a dream at twenty-six, get it by all means
Twenty-thirteen green
Couple O's, couple K's, couple Glocks
Bodies laid, couple slayed, couple yachts
A lot of homicides, Chevy slide on Pirelli's
Full fur diamond blurry, young Jim Kelly
Million dollar phone calls on the black celly
Black power trying to escape Jack Bauer and the federales
Riley, Stripe, Monty, '03 going back to Cali
And my dope mans, starched tan khakis and my Ray Bans
Fly gangsta, dirty niggas hate him
Fly chicks wanna date him cause I stay gold
Rubber band bank roll, load the MAC-11, let's roll
We gotta take more, they got me on my mobbing shit
Ninety-nine stick up kids, niggas came to rob the shit
So lay down or get hit with these metal sticks
My niggas chop ten and shave bricks
Trying to escape Satan and housing bricks
So for freedom, I'm housing this
Malcolm in the middle, Malcolm little with a ink pen
A long way from Malcolm Jamal, born to live in
No Theo Huxtable, I hustle for my living
Never had to fit in, in this survival of the fittest
A hustler told me if you riding then you get in
No time to be a scary nigga today
If you out in these streets you gotta be down for the play
Had the banger with thirty shots, nigga at nineteen
Had them cookies, add more dough, numb ya, morphine
Had a dream at twenty-six, get it by all means
Twenty-thirteen green
Couple O's, couple K's, couple Glocks
Bodies laid, couple slayed, couple yachts
Couple O's, couple K's, couple Glocks
Bodies laid, couple slayed, couple yachts
Credits
Writer(s): Terrace Martin, Kyle Alfonso Myricks, Quincy Matthew Hanley
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