Electric Wire Hustle Flower feat. Sunny

歌詞

Yo Electric! Wire! Hustle! Flower Electric! Wire! Hustle! Flower Electric! Wire! Hustle! Flower Electric! Wire! Hustle! Flower Electric! Wire! Hustle! Flower Electric! Wire! Hustle! Flower Electric! Wire! Hustle! Flower Electric! Wire! Hustle! Flower Blood and magic dripping from me True thugs and addicts I grip an entry Enter this game with tricks and envy I forget game to remain an emcee Rooms in this mind that's still empty, only fufilled through prophecy You stoppin me, you see I'm tryin to catch this plane You must be slow nigga, catch your brain It's fresh, but it is some stress and pain Got hoes? Ho nigga respect the game I talked to cab drivers about the fast lane And Islam, masters and shakras and beyond Think about the hustle and somehow I see by But what led it to the concrete, BS be strong You was at your hardest when you didn't even try Live like a bitch, to bitch you gonna die Electric! Wire! Hustle! Flower Electric! Wire! Hustle! Flower Electric! Wire! Hustle! Flower Electric! Wire! Hustle! Flower Mercury and retrograde, I'm trying to get niggas in the ghetto paid While they watch pornos and Escalades, away from floats and the dope in sex parades Somebody screamin in my mind, I'm tryin to find if it's me Or voices on the master, they design to be free Same revolt, can't be found on TV, or radio, its livin in me Hey lady, that smoke is bothering me If I put it in your eye, ashes you would cry All this rap talk is blowing my high I just came to chill and build with my guy I try to walk but I stumble off the humble path This story of a pimp stick that became a staff You got it, you gotta know where to aim the mag Art and opinions are made to clash Electric! Wire! Hustle! Flower Electric! Wire! Hustle! Flower Electric! Wire! Hustle! Flower Electric! Wire! Hustle! Flower Out of body hard to explain, like the pyramids and gods I remain I know pain, like Kurt Cobain, or ain't I playin hurt the whole game Dig it to the Earth's brain for worst gain Focused like young blood on his first chain I used to write shit to please niggas Now I write shit to freeze niggas Whether iced out, or American Pie sliced out I sit in the room with the lights out Whether diced out, or with their hair spliced out I sit alone in the room with the lights out screamin Electric! Wire! Hustle! Flower Electric! Wire! Hustle! Flower Electric! Wire! Hustle! Flower Electric! Wire! Hustle! Flower Electric! Wire! Hustle! Flower Electric! Wire! Hustle! Flower Electric! Wire! Hustle! Flower Electric! Wire! Hustle! Flower