Testo Numbers On the Boards - Black Hippy
Testo della canzone Numbers On the Boards (Black Hippy), tratta dall'album T.D.E.
Not wearing two chains, but I keep it true
Real niggas with me, my real bitches too
Out for trump change, yeah I gotta eat
Patience is a virtue, something flawless gonna come to me
I'm rolling OG, blow it out the roof
She eyeballing me, macking hoes like CPUs
She know me, might've saw me on TV too
Thugging with the homies, tryna make it, kicking ghetto tunes
Out the gutter bitch, what your focus is
Small time hustling, now it's time to do it big
I want it all, fancy cars, yeah the newest shit
Came a long way, riding 'round on my Buick shit
Win by any means, who said it best
Kobe Bryant mind state, I'm shooting 'til I'm accurate
Can't stop until I'm a couple million strong
Grinding to put my loved ones on, in my zone
Not your average rapper, step inside my universe
Far from your average rappers, nothing is by the book
Welcome to Hell's Kitchen, show you just how to cook
The city is full of bishops, putting pressure on rooks
My vision so panoramic, my brain on another planet
To reach it you gon' need more than a neurologist
Honestly to be honest, far from lyrical
Gifted with miracles, when I rhyme it's a ritual
Spitting it hits you spiritual nigga
I'm planning my day to triumph
All I got is my word and my sword, choppers and Bibles
I pray, pray a nigga never get in my way
'Cause that'll be the moment he make his bed and just lay
And now you see me shining, perfect timing, I'm a top dog
I love this feeling, make a killing when I'm on tour
All my life surrounded by negativity, jealousy
Through the midst of it all that's what they telling me
Motherfuckers can't rhyme no more, 'bout crime no more
When I was in the streets I put them numbers on the board
I robbed two niggas, put they chains in the pawn shop
Got five hundred, spent it all on a quarter piece
Made about fifteen hundred, them new J's was about two hundred
The word got back, they know I done it
Spent a thou' on a few new drummers
Took it to them 'cause I knew they was coming
Three yards left, ran through those like first and goal
Now I'm back broke, pistol close like who got the dough
Yeah, DMX of the projects
Skinny black nigga with a complex, fuck your Pyrex
Robbing everything, no patience for the nonsense
Professor X with a TEC, get your mind hit
They say I rap with a chip on my shoulder
Nah nigga this the wits of a soldier
Motherfucker it's J-Roc
Credits
Writer(s): Charles M. Njapa, Chris E. Martin, Bunny Sigler, Terrence Thornton, Kanye Omari West, Anthony King, Shawn C. Carter, Donald E. Cannon, John Matthews
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