8ball

8ball - Hands In The Air lyrics

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(Eightball)



Okay; comin' from the top of my

Dome when I'm droppin' my

Own type of style, and

Ain't nobody stoppin' my

Rise to the very top

Hit 'em up wit' all I got

Superstar; no I'm not

Green weed; black glock

Everybody want a piece

Dirty like a pair 'a cleats

Niggers run their mouth a lot

Like bitches and parakeets

(whoa) How you love that pimpin'

(whoa) I'm so cold wit' it

(whoa) Make all the boys wanna do it just because I did it

I'm like a legend or

Some kind of prophecy

Sent here to set you free

Dress, player, follow me

Into another world

Deep inside your own soul

This shit here way bigger than tattoos and cornrolls

This not 'bout makin' dough

Not 'bout no fakin' yo

Not 'bout who's rich 'o po'

Not 'bout who niggaz know

This here 'bout you and me

This here 'bout poetry

This here 'bout who we be

If you in here with me



(Chorus)



Keep your ears wide open

This is all grill no jokin'

Throw your motherfuckin' hands up in the air

If you feel me throw your hands up in the air

Better keep your ears open

This is all grill no boastin'

Throw your hands up in the motherfuckin' air

If you feel me throw your hands up in the air

The motherfuckin' aaaaair



(Eightball)



Nigga you don't know me

Why you niggaz wanna beef?

All in my grill like

You the papparazzi

Boy I was fulla game

Way before this rap thang

Real 'fore the money came

That's why I will never change

Me  ain't nobody like

Even though they try to be

Niggaz think they are but they ain't fuckin' with me lyric'ly

(Yo) I was born wit' it

Din't nobody teach it to me

Over hot beef

Tell you 'bout what the streets did to me

(Yo) Chose me to be a

Prophet and lead my people

Murder non-believers

With lyrics that are lethal

I hit 'em heavy with it

Yo I stay ready wit' it

Come try to test me wit' it

Regret you ever did

Call who a pimp and

I got my own back

You got them baby paper?

I got them grown stacks

But this ain't 'bout no bread

Not 'bout what niggaz said

Not 'bout what hoes believe

If you in here with me



(Chorus)



(Eightball)



Yeah I gotta come again

Just to let you know the deal

Eight ways to company

Beats come from doin' real (yeah)

We the niggaz should not nobody be fuckin wit'

Slayer riders Chopper city

Had you bitches doubled quick

This ain't 'bout who rap the best

This ain't 'bout who got the most

This is not no gangsta rap

This ain't 'bout no pimps and hoes

This here ain't no country shit

Ain't no way to label this

Memphis where I come from

Orange mile veteran

What I represent  whoever live in poverty

Hard working niggaz that

Try to hustle honestly

And I represent who

Lookin' good and feelin' nice

Niggaz on there drinkin' 'dro

Fresh clothes; full of ice

(Yeah) We gon' keep this slummin' comin' with the dirtiest

(Yeah) If you from the gutter then I know you heard of this

This ain't bout where you from

This ain't bout where you be

This here 'bout feelin free

If you in here with me



(Chorus)



(Eightball)



Go 'head and put 'em up

Put your hands where I can see 'em

Put your hands where I can see 'em

Go 'head and put 'em up

Put your hands where I can see 'em

Put your hands where I can see 'em



(unknown voice talking)



Yeah, eight ways, doo-rilla

Code line

Slab two is goin' down baby

This your boy Milwaukee

Stop prayin' 



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Author: ?

Composer: ?

Publisher: ?

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Language: English

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