A.G. (Andre M. Barnes)

A.G. (Andre M. Barnes) - Hidden Crate songtekst

Je score:

[De Niro from Taxi Driver]

All the animals come out at night

Buggers, queens, fairies, dopers, junkies

Sick, venal

Someday a real rain'll come and wash all the scum off the streets

I go all over- to the Bronx, Brooklyn, Harlem, I don't care

Don't make no difference to me



[The Giant]

I spit stress on tracks, givin all y'all hard time

So live, swing through par fives with one stroke

Catch you on a quiet note, without your platoon

When you sing the same tune...

I keeps the boom like sonic, my ebonics can't be fucked with

Ass get hit and passed like the bag we just lit

Terror on tracks, word is that I'm sweet with mine

Show & A's shit is basic, more than beats and rhymes

All them honeys in the front row? Those freaks is mine

All y'all niggas that's gung ho, can't compete with mine

Like GD, we burn em like Backdraft

Let the truth hit em like Baduizm, you didn't do the math

I hold my own like Bud Bundy with no date

Got the poor man's attitude, the kind a rich man hate

So what's the explanation for my schizophrenic state?

At times I feel my niggas; at times I can't relate

Watch me blow spots and show cats how to rock properly

Like Gotti, the head nigga I gotta be



[DJ Greyboy cuts up]

Look me in my eyes and tell me what you see



[The Giant]

I'm the cleverest, top ten terrorist

Chickens ever dis, they become featherless

? derelicts, certified gold medalist

You can play fly, I'm the most high like Everest

Look at all these fakes, musically you imitate the Crates

Won't succeed, movin at full speed with no brakes

Like jake, watch me take your entourage

Can't see I'm camouflage, besides, I'm god

Mad hard, like the S.A.T.

Shorties, caught up in the mental, watch 'em bless AG

Evidently, you still don't know because you tempt me

Thought you was the boss when your wack thoughts were empty

? still jealous ones envy

Who sent me?  D.I.T.C., good n' plenty

Like the doctor, smoke a Spike joint and watch Clockers

Get rude like Shabba, make moves behind my Blockers

The sickness, you want the pill you better pick this

Bitches can't get this, faggots remain dickless

Mathematics proves to be supreme

Got no invisible means to reach my dreams

Just faith; do little with it, nothing without it

Replace Show & A? I doubt it, we're here forever

I'm brainstormin, let it hang out when I'm performin

See I have to, I'm a natural like Jordan scorin

Got your brain leakin, nah better yet it's pourin

Puttin holes in your ideas, blood on your fly gear

I've had it, raps are anti-steal like magnets

Crabs get dealt with, no method to my madness



[DJ Greyboy cuts up]

Look me in my eyes and tell me what you see
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Taal: Engels

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