I’ve never told (Ay man, the language brother)
Motherfucker, this ain’t back in the day
Statik, what up? L.O.X in this joint
This ain’t back in the day (Yeah)
Mother—, mother—
Motherfucker, this ain’t back in the day, day, day
This ain’t back in the day
Back, back in the day
But you don’t hear me though
But you don’t hear me though
Yo Statik, what’s good son? (But you don’t)
But you don’t hear me though (I’ma go in right here, god)
But you don’t hear me though (D-Block, ow!)
Bumping that Statik with the automatic on my hip
Blue whip, Navy paper plane, no, I ain’t a Crip
We used to have the hallway fogged up, smoking reefer
Yeah I went to school but KRS was the teacher (Boogie Down Productions)
In April, had to hustle hard to get fresh for Easter
Instead of celebrating Christ, I beat the noose twice
And fucked some lil’ bitch on the steps
I do reps with these new rappers, it’s cool though
They UFC, I’m still judos, they high right now, I’m like kudos
But fuck that, haha, yo
I like that new money, shit done changed on the block
So I don’t reminisce even though I love Pete Rock
I give you bars, no microwave rap
I can take it down South, but it’s gon’ be my version of trap
Don’ Don’, the god, money is long
I can’t judge an artist off one song but you don’t hear me though
But you don’t hear me though
But you don’t hear me though (But you don’t)
But you don’t hear me though
Turn it up louder, they ain’t listening good enough
But you don’t hear me though
This ain’t back in the days, if it was
The niggas’ll sound different and give you a pound different
I don’t hate the trap but give me that boom bap
Yeah, the 808, eating at the bistro, the 808
Told the owner Sal, “Veggies and the power”
I used to freestyle for ahk for a bottle of Blue, now
No MTA cards, hoping the turnstile to catch the train on ’em
Get your ass whooped, you brought the pain home
The days when you knocked on your man’s door
Yelled to the window so he could come outside
Drink a 40, lit weed, and y’all go and knock the grams off
Had to have hands or your shit was getting ran, dawg
Grow out of no handers in the sand, yo
.45 in the war, wish that was ten, yo
Thank God for this rap shit, clearly though
Back in the days, shit was real, but you don’t hear me though
But you don’t hear me though
But you don’t hear me though
But you don’t hear me though (But you don’t)
But you don’t hear me though (Ha-hah! Yo)
Niggas ‘cross town tryna bomb me, I had the certified on me
‘Fore I knew it was foul, the hearts alarm me
If they caught you doing some bullshit, they tell your mommy
Win, lose or draw, gotta go out if a nigga try me
When Jenny hooked up with Lionel, I had the Sugarhill vinyl
Before crack hit, it was just winos
Riots and looting, park jams with no shooting
When niggas pops was hooping, heavy prostitution
Pirate radio was officially on deck
Staying up late night with the tissue and the cassette
Hip-hop is everything I got
Around this time, I was hooked on the
King of Rock
I just wanna rap, I’ma go give this thing a shot
Looking back, I done never thought that this thing’ll pop
Nah, right now I’m proud to be a part of the family
And you standing there just looking at me but you don’t hear me
But you don’t hear me though (What)
But you don’t hear me though (But you don’t)
But you don’t hear me though
But you don’t hear me though
Motherfucker, this ain’t back in the day
This ain’t back in the day
Mother—, mother—
Motherfucker, this ain’t back in the day, day, day, day
This ain’t back in the day
Back, back in the day, but you don’t hear me though
But you don’t hear me though
نظرات