Print

[Royce Da 5'9"] Unlock ya locks, and keep ya keys The Pac in me, got me thinkin deeply I got to shock MC's, wit my philosophy Cause I think very deeply Where I come from, where you sweat ya pen up Young gun rep-resenter, from the Ep-icenter The microphone fienin, for a microphone Before he knew what a microphone mean Wit them four pounds, and they soundin them off And them slugs, get them thugs, and the ground, get the chalk Niggaz hearts is dissolvin, involved in What Farakhan and, Jim Brown couldn't solve [Man singing w/ (Royce ad-libs)] I'ma tell you what I know, what I know [Royce Da 5'9"] It's them +Boyz In the Hood+ it's always hard You come talkin that trash, they'll pull ya card Who would have known, that the boy growin up playin them cards Will soon know the music he wrote, it was so true Who could raise me, after I been amazed by Dre And N.W.A., and you couldn't pay me To back the staff for free, I will believe It ain't nothin +Shady+ in the +Aftermath+ SongtextePerhaps when you unwrappin the plastic You respect whatever you hear, and ya styles is growin Them guys is clonin, them pioneers Rappers wanna be classic, like they Clef, Pras, and Warren [Man singing w/ (Royce ad-libs)] I'ma tell you what I know, what I know [Royce Da 5'9"] Elvis - was a hero to most But he never meant shit to me, it's statements Like that made me gage, White, Black, hate to make Me say - I like, when they fight back, they Me and rap, I vent myself Leanin back, not knowin that I meant myself A lesson comin fast, you dudes better catch it Whenever the future answers ya questions from the past And hold that, I'm spillin these cold raps Cause I am a +Throwback+ you feelin the soldier And keep tryin, to keep up wit the kind of guy That'll play you until they fatally say that the game's over [Man singing w/ (Royce ad-libs)] I'ma tell you what I know, what I know [Royce Da 5'9"] Oh my God, I destroy cities like the Blob Goin from city to city, seein who I can rob Goin from makin them poems up, in my garage Then goin on major tours wit, me and my squad Goin from listenin to Reggie, to meeting him Wit my palms sweaty, to him, telling me - I'm dead meat Goin from likin, to spray the club after a night That didn't go my way, to plug a writin for Dre You damn right I was raised, the amazin Hand-writin on the same page, that you can't type on So I black out, the usual same way The old fashion rap, til it's no lights on [Man singing w/ (Royce ad-libs)] I'ma tell you what I know, what I know Aus Songtexte Mania