Print

Niggas wanna talk about this rap shit... Niggas wanna talk about this money... 'Bout these cars... these homes... these labels, clothes, sneakers... Big money shit... Now e'erybody tryna get rich... Then get rich nigga fuck it [Verse 1:] Some rap pioneers be them crack heads, when they speak You see missin' teeth, silver chain wit' a silver piece Niggas ya grandfather age They pants still hangin' down they leg talkin' 'bout they ain't paid And they hate you 'cause they say you ain't paid dues And - was stealin' and robbin' 'em I feel it's a problem we gotta resolve Hip-Hop been dead, we the reason it died Wasn't Sylvia's fault or 'cause MC's skills are loss It's 'cause we can't see ourselves as a boss Deep rooted through slavery, self hatred The Jewish stick toegther, friends in high places We on some low level shit We don't want niggas to ever win, see everybody got a label Everybody's a rapper but few flow fatal It's fucked up it all started from two turntables [Chorus:] When they crown you, and you rise up To ya position, carry on tradition SongtexteWhen they knight you, and you go to fight, go to war Don't petition, carry on tradition Carry on tradition, carry, c-carry on tradition Carry on tradition, when you rep what we rep You carry on tradition [Verse 2:] Now some of these new rappers got they caps flipped backwards Wit' the fingers intertwined in some gang sign madness I got an exam to see if y'all pass it Let's see who can quote a Daddy Kane line the fastest Some of you new rappers I don't understand ya code You have ya man shoot you like in that Soprano episode Do anything to get in the game, mixtapes You spit hate against bosses, hungry fucks are marvelous You should be tossed in a pit full of unfortunate Vocalists, niggas I could have wrote ya shit I had off time, was bored wit' this, I could have made my double LP Just by samplin' different parts of ??? Still came five on the charts wit' zero audience The lane was open and y'all was droppin' that garbage shit Y'all got awards for ya bricks, it got good to ya You started tellin' the bigger dogs to call it quits? What?! [Chorus] [Verse 3:] Now niggas got the studio poppin' it's mad clearer Engineers got us ear plugs and still hear us The live in the park sound Versus the state of the art sound we on the charts now From British walkers and Argyles Look at us rap stars now, wit' our black cards now Fortune 500 listed, brunch at Cipriani's Sippin', blunted, wit' rich white guys around me Thick white girls around me, Chinese lined up 'Cause I'm what, every dime lust We use to be a ghetto secret, can't make my mind up If I want that, or the whole world of people Now I carry on tradition Fuck a bum wack rapper makin' his career out of dissin' Peace to the strugglin' artists and dead ones gone We miss 'em, I promise I'mma carry on tradition [Chorus] Aus Songtexte Mania