Run-D.M.C.
Run-D.M.C. - Simmons Incorporated songtekst
Je score:
Yo my nigga Jamel Simmons what the deal nigga? (Gold D, Dig Dast what's goin down, what's goin down) {Aight, what's goin on, what's goin on What's the deal pa, where you headed son?} (Yo I'm bout to go to the studio and lay smash hit Wit my Uncle Run, boy) {Word?} Ain't he a Reverend now, collectin plates At churches and shit? (He's spittin flames right now baby He at the top of his game, right now I'm tellin, I'm show you, watch Youknowhatimean? He's a born again, hooligan) Uh-huh I'm red rum, Reverend Run, brother son, earthquakin Industry shakin, you kiddin me? We money makin Your money fake son, I'll call you clay cuz you get's Play-Doh Jamel and Joey Simmons holdin millions on the lay low Platinum hailos, hero heads high from hydro Hit the dime on the combo, she try to diss my rhyme flow She ain't know we only glamorous like Phat Farm fashion Simmons name sinamous wit this cash It's our passion... what!? Yo basically I'm here to rename rap, it ain't rap no more Call it Simmons Incorporated, since '74 Lotta money in this fam, think about it Me wit Run-D.M.C., and him over at Def Jam Well damn, how the hell you think we livin? How you think it feel to be a Simmons Imagine Christmas and Thanksgiving People wanna know why I ain't on my brother's label If I did this whole rap game be unstable Went over to Arista wit Mr. Davis, for the change of neighbors It's only fair that we share those naked papers You can tell a cat serious about rap and it ain't luck If 20 years after his first single, his name's stuck From '74 to '99, did novice to king, wit a million MC's waitin in line Keep a barrel on this album if my man's and them rise Now speed it up, uh Run really make ya wanna drop, drop Now wanna make ya go live, live Now wanna make ya go live, live Now hold up Now I walked on ice and never fell I spent my time in a plush hotel John-John Phenomenon, deadly but calm Word to my born, dead by dawn Got the right to bear arm, ring the alarm! Another sound boy dyin, hot irons Slugs flyin out the hardware appliance Baby mamma cryin, sobbin and grievin You was at aws wit them kids till they made it even Let down ya guard, yes you did, now you barely breathin To unaware, open season on a duck, we don't give a what Yo best best to give it up Sho indeed, let's Run D's MC's, they phony Some hump free, they mad bogey Saddle up ya horse, if the sunset mosey Jam Master Jay deserve a trophy for this track, right? Futuristic G past type, if that's yo girlfriend She wasn't last night punk, little boy Stylin mad chump, ain't no wins here This sport's extreme, know what I mean? Gettin royalty, +Down With the King+!!! Crack, crack, cracks in the cradle Cracks, in the cradle Cracks in the cradle, cokes in the spoon Little Boy Blue higher than the moon Will he, will he want a weapons, will he wanted the wound I come to school and lay down the rules Two, two, two channel empty guzzle, brake gallons of drop Shorty wit the forty, once sport in the dark Co-co-corner, black as a goner Didn't really wanna call my momma in Savannah I spit dynamite ignite turn off lights Recite, spit poetry type, get my squad physically hype Get a hundred blast from Funkmaster, crush ya life +Blast+ Time to go now, show these fake rappers the way to go down Down With The Kings, like Smokey down wit Motown Who wanna come and see, come and test me Take about a million MC's to wet me For Run-D.M.C. I let shells fly, freein the five Wit the red eye, niggas talkin to much Tape 'em up, leave 'em hog tied You thinkin about it way to hard, how to get down wit the Gods Kenny Cash, the Bronx cat, but it'll ride wit gats Peep chicks huggin the sacks, yours scratchin the back I'mma shark in a shack, y'all cats is feedin the fish Now hate and feed wit clips, nigga that leave you ripped And I'm leavin 'em dry, shit's crushed wit bleadin lips Bet I, leave these chips, and a C.L.K. After I hang plaques in the spot wit Run, D and Jay