Artist: Toussaint Morrison
Written by Toussaint Morrison
Released August 11, 2011
She
don’t believe in tourin’ bands
But
she believe in the rulin’ class
Ma,
I don’t need school to grad,
But
you’ll need music to do the dance, now
No
need to get all irate
Talkin’
that ish under your breath sideways
I’m
easy to put it mildly
On
my Schwinn bumpin’ Rilo Kiley
Love
my job, wouldn’t take another
Love
my ma, even when we’re under
Don’t
know if she could say the same,
But
if that’s the case, then “unconditional” is the name, now
Coffeshop.
I sweat through the word.
On-stage
I sweat through the shirt.
I
spend most the time, forgettin’ what’s heard
Follow
your gut and you can never go unsure
Yeah,
Urban Home’s the team
Thursday
through Saturday’s the scheme
Most
times I wake up and think it’s all a dream,
But
joke’s on me, I was never asleep
I
got it on U-Lock like the wheels
Move
like the breeze and I mic at will
Yeah,
you’ll have to tell us more than twice to chill
When
we got days to save and tonight to kill,
But
how now- how now, they wanna steal the sound
What
we make in three steps they can’t leap or bound
Rappers
think they Brock, yellin’ “see me now”
But
if the rapper can’t rock, then keep it down
Left
your card at the bar- catch up
Homie
it’s the morning after the morning after
Grab
a pair of good clean sox and pull your pants up
Good
morning Urban America. Hands up.
Beef
and shit talkin’ ain’t a thing y’all
Bring
your crew, meet me high noon- sing off
Ladies
take off what they bring on
Exes
to enemies, errbody sing along
-
CHORUS
Here
we go, another show
Hands
up, grab the ceilin’
Everybody
sing it
Na,
Na, Na, Na, Na
Hit
the road,
Different
city, same clothes
Change’em
at the after party singin’
Na,
Na, Na, Na, Na
-
Now
the hype went from a handful to a duffle bag
Turned
to a landfill- Hey, where your shovel at
‘Round
here, no need to ask where the trouble
Chill,
she ain’t talkin’ to who she lookin’ at
It’s
not pretentious when it’s not pretendin’
Good
lookin’ sounds makin’ off with your attention
Pretty
Lights drunk dialated the senses to senseless
Small
talkin’ – long winded textin’
We
party ‘til the whole apartment’s wobblin’
And
chicks are aimin’ for my neck- Billy Compton
Ya
ain’t seen shit yet- watch it
I’m
rollin’ with Sloan Ketteren and Johnny Hopkins
I’m
a myth, I’m a monster
Smashed
so many pumpkins, the Osbournes call me Black Goblin
Fly
by night, overhead layin’ low
Wait
‘til sunlight, I’m back to life- Banquo
CHORUS
No comments:
Post a Comment