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Hands In The Air

Hands In The Air
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LYRICS

作詞:プレムロ・スミス/Dewayne Martin/ジェイソン・ボイド

作曲:プレムロ・スミス/Dewayne Martin/ジェイソン・ボイド

[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 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 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] Yeah I gotta go 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 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] 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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