Tech N9ne

Tech N9ne - Road Rage lyrics

Your rating:

It's my lane you fly or you die mayne
Deny that we hype don't even try mayne
Rely on this guy to give you migraines
Screamin' on you demons A.Y
This is road rage, this is, this is road rage
This is cold days, this is, this is cold days
Never on your page, this forever flow stays
This is road rage, this is, this is road rage
As the stars start falling
But it fell all the way down under the underground
There is where we create Strangeland (BOOM)
You know what I'm saying right there
Get the fuck out of my way
I don't be givin a fuck
Never come into my lane
Nigga, we choppin em up
Here we'll be givin em pain
And then we hit with a truck
That is the name of the game
When you be fuckin wit us
Make a path for a nigga, you better be ready to get the cash for a nigga
We break and we crush and we slash every nigga
And if you think any better we gonna blast on a nigga
I'm yellin on you because you ain't on my level
You cannot beat me so you say that I'm a devil
Can't nobody get me when the foot is on the pedal
On this road I hella go I'm a rebel
This my lane you fly or you die mayne
Deny that we hype don't even try mayne
Rely on this guy to give you migraines
Screamin' on you demons A.Y
This is road rage, this is, this is road rage
This is cold days, this is, this is cold days
Never on your page, this forever flow stays
This is road rage, this is, this is road rage
This is our lane nigga, stay in your own mothafuckin lane
I'm sick of yellin on you motherfuckers
I'mma let my young nigga merc y'all ass
Un-fuck withable come get it, no?
Some get it go when they trippin' on the tire smoke
‘Cause you minimal and I'm a general
Plus I'm finna blow and have you niggas runnin for survival
I know, you probably thought that trash you spit was real hot
Why don't, you hand the microphone to me and go get a real job
‘Cause that ain't dope boy
Somebody please tell this po' boy
We ain't playin games no mo' boy
We hoggin up the lane and goin insane for the dough boy
Don't you eva eva come here no mo' boy
Cause we don't play the wack shit
We beast on every track that we be on
Better wake up, you sleep on the elite homes
Your flow's like a Prius, paint it pink with little flower decals
Mine's like a mothafuckin monsta truck
Finna ride and crush anybody on the street now
Hop into your city and they ready to geek out
You pick up the mic and they ready to leave out
Meanwhile I'm back stage with a bad thick broad and
I'mma bout to bring her and the freak out
Get out my lane (right)
You ain't talkin about a thang unless it's about some change
And I'm off the chain (right)
I'mma give it to ya broad and beat it out the frame
And I ain't playin (right)
And I got one thang I gotta bring to this game, it's Damon Wayans
Damon Wayans? Yeah nigga that's major pain
This is road rage, this is, this is road rage
This is cold days, this is, this is cold days
Never on your page, this forever flow stays
This is road rage, this is, this is road rage
Get this song at:
bol.com
amazon.com

Copyrights:

Author: ?

Composer: ?

Publisher: ?

Details:

Language: English

Share your thoughts

This form is protected by reCAPTCHA and the Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply.

0 Comments found