Some of these rappers don't have to spit rhymes
They gettin' money, throwin' baphomet signs Peep how I crafted these lines
My light is on, I write a psalm and chant it proper
You know me, the phantom or the opera They love the words, but can't stand the author
Command your chakras, your man a conqueror That's word to Concalah, I conqueror lah
Got bunker bars, the shit I shoot land amongst the stars
I don't aim at the moon, it's not a fair stretch I care less if their stress
I came with that boom bap, this shit they doin' whack
Who in tune to that? Change the frequency and bring the movement back
Settle for what? No, nada blow ganja The Hampton , Globe Trotter, who flow hotter
Your glow gotta be on some extra drip Just to connect with tip
I'm careful with the words that I select and spit
So expect some ish, this crazy fire The vibration, I raise it higher
Horror flow, Albert Hitchcock We been all fours, horror show
Hollow tips, pop, through they car door Babylon see us as they average niggas
We far more, they know the time That's why they try to dim the black stars for
Turning words, we flip While burning herb in our spliffs
Whenever I turn to spit, we not concern sound they shit
They too cool for school, they gon' learn trick We blaze tools that fools fire burn trick
We bring rhythm in the room to raise the energy sky high
Hit em with the boom, Babylon go go bye bye
They part of the rat pack, they hang with them snitches
We peeling their cap back, banging em them biscuit
Dealing fat sacs in the hood with shotters and misfits
Holes in they snapbacks, doctors cant mend' with stitches
Boom shaka laka, goon shotters with the choppers
In the room with the rastas, blazin' fire watchin' rockers
Tip Top - AYE (feat. Ras Dane Jah) Lyrics
Tip Top - AYE (feat. Ras Dane Jah) Lyrics
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If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
Some of these rappers don't have to spit rhymes
They gettin' money, throwin' baphomet signs Peep how I crafted these lines
My light is on, I write a psalm and chant it proper
You know me, the phantom or the opera They love the words, but can't stand the author
Command your chakras, your man a conqueror That's word to Concalah, I conqueror lah
Got bunker bars, the shit I shoot land amongst the stars
I don't aim at the moon, it's not a fair stretch I care less if their stress
I came with that boom bap, this shit they doin' whack
Who in tune to that? Change the frequency and bring the movement back
Settle for what? No, nada blow ganja The Hampton , Globe Trotter, who flow hotter
Your glow gotta be on some extra drip Just to connect with tip
I'm careful with the words that I select and spit
So expect some ish, this crazy fire The vibration, I raise it higher
Horror flow, Albert Hitchcock We been all fours, horror show
Hollow tips, pop, through they car door Babylon see us as they average niggas
We far more, they know the time That's why they try to dim the black stars for
Turning words, we flip While burning herb in our spliffs
Whenever I turn to spit, we not concern sound they shit
They too cool for school, they gon' learn trick We blaze tools that fools fire burn trick
We bring rhythm in the room to raise the energy sky high
Hit em with the boom, Babylon go go bye bye
They part of the rat pack, they hang with them snitches
We peeling their cap back, banging em them biscuit
Dealing fat sacs in the hood with shotters and misfits
Holes in they snapbacks, doctors cant mend' with stitches
Boom shaka laka, goon shotters with the choppers
In the room with the rastas, blazin' fire watchin' rockers
They gettin' money, throwin' baphomet signs Peep how I crafted these lines
My light is on, I write a psalm and chant it proper
You know me, the phantom or the opera They love the words, but can't stand the author
Command your chakras, your man a conqueror That's word to Concalah, I conqueror lah
Got bunker bars, the shit I shoot land amongst the stars
I don't aim at the moon, it's not a fair stretch I care less if their stress
I came with that boom bap, this shit they doin' whack
Who in tune to that? Change the frequency and bring the movement back
Settle for what? No, nada blow ganja The Hampton , Globe Trotter, who flow hotter
Your glow gotta be on some extra drip Just to connect with tip
I'm careful with the words that I select and spit
So expect some ish, this crazy fire The vibration, I raise it higher
Horror flow, Albert Hitchcock We been all fours, horror show
Hollow tips, pop, through they car door Babylon see us as they average niggas
We far more, they know the time That's why they try to dim the black stars for
Turning words, we flip While burning herb in our spliffs
Whenever I turn to spit, we not concern sound they shit
They too cool for school, they gon' learn trick We blaze tools that fools fire burn trick
We bring rhythm in the room to raise the energy sky high
Hit em with the boom, Babylon go go bye bye
They part of the rat pack, they hang with them snitches
We peeling their cap back, banging em them biscuit
Dealing fat sacs in the hood with shotters and misfits
Holes in they snapbacks, doctors cant mend' with stitches
Boom shaka laka, goon shotters with the choppers
In the room with the rastas, blazin' fire watchin' rockers
Writer: Tim Lewis, Michael Lewis
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid