1. |
Du-Ragz
03:25
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Seen ya baby mama, look like John Cougar Mellencamp
told me one day only felons could rap
I looked her in the eye she was sellin' some stamps
you got a problem with me you should just tell me that
Money on my mind I gotta brainstorm
Once heard em say, when it rains it'll pour
sometimes it comes quick, other times you wait for it
all I know is this, that I gotta make more
Don't wanna be a player, rest in peace to Pun
I see it, I beat it up don't need the drums
I got a straight shooter, I don't need the gun
I call your girl an Uber then watch Martin re-runs
Can't trust a word that pass from ya lips
Seein' is believing you ain't showing me shit
Can't grab attention 'less you're holding a grip
Can't grab attention 'less you're holding a grip
Ya mama gotta a du-rag, American flag
red, white and blue, with the cape in the back (2x)
Yea, I'm gonna clown, Barnum and Bailey
Funky Cold Medina, Ice Ice Baby
I dig your old lady, she work at Old Navy
was on her lunch break, swallowing throat babies
Rap cash money like I'm Baby and Wayne
I got work to do with no space to complain
I guess the game changed ain't no hating the game
and I got my blood tested ain't no traces of lame
Bro go crazy, the flow so mani
old dog same tricks nah they can't train me
Industry Rule 4080
the game so shady, radio won't play me
A whole lot of rappers none of 'em entertain me
Knock em out the box, yearly, daily
No grits, no gravy, if's and's or maybe's
had to bite down like a Bluenose with rabies
Chorus
I said "fuck this rap shit, I'd rather listen to Prince"
and chase a fat chick that got the ass with the dents
but it's a thin line, Boy be having to squint
grass ain't always greener on that side of the fence
a drunk ain't shit, who you had to convince
Henny in my hand liquor passing my lips
have the cash in hand when I ask for the rent
no comparison, no one matching the wit
"Stick" without the "C" yea you're reading it right
you read on the flier start believing the hype
But there's really more to it though, than seeking the light
ain't move to the east side for pieces of pie
Young Padawan, perusing through the catalog
what you slap now, will turn your brain to applesauce
chattel getting moved around by a cattle prod
wave my magic wand, then travel like a vagabond
Chorus
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2. |
Be Kind, Rewind
03:42
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Chorus
I need mine, I read lines
Want you out the frame, that's how it's been designed
extras in the scene taking up screen time
stick to the script, hold up, rewind (2x)
Lights, camera, action, feel like you ready?
don't need favors I deal with the fetti
might pull the pepper then spill your spaghetti
word will get around town like wheels on the Chevy
Nah, Ima chill, cut with precision
everyone a thug in their subdivision
they prey on the weak, like what's a religion
probably kill your parakeet and bludgeon all the witnesses
I'm on the mission, vision through spotty glasses
see me sloppy drippin', Dada Damani fashion
I'm on the wave but I'm Tsunami splashin'
at local strip malls teaching Pilate classes
don't trip, I know your mommy absent
she won Ms. Utah in that '88 pageant
on her lower back, tatted a Bible passage
I'm in the kitchen eating fruit snacks, all in the cabinet, like
Chorus
And I'm on my own path, they heard that I hold back
used to get under my skin like old tat's
I guess it's time to unload, letting that pole smack
But I never blame a hater if his mama smoked crack
Counting this old scratch competition not close
go sign a petition if you feel we got smoke
drop a nuclear bomb, won't even find a cockroach
have blood coming out of your mouth like Boskoe
never bought dope, wrote it all in notebooks
the best-kept secret, somewhere that they don't look
I guess I'm old fashioned like rappin' with no hooks
not wifing a chick if she bad and she don't cook
told her go roll a wood, and then smacked her on the ass
carried the weight of my world it was under a gram
got me feeling fly, and I'm just trying to land
money music to my ears that's why we call it a band
Chorus
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3. |
Dixie Queen
03:29
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Chorus
Know a bad chick don't cook or clean
little food for thought, yea good cuisine
wrapped in designer in the hood she queen
do bad by herself, girl do ya thing (2x)
She was yellow with freckles, light like a banana
seen her at the gas station drinking pineapple Fanta
with an accent like East Atlanta
poetry in motion, watching each stanza
asked what her Instagram was, going on a tree limb
off of the Seagrams, hopping in the DM's
aye, can we be friends? do this every weekend
keep you in mind, treasure all your secrets
girl, your nigga weak, cuffing like the precinct
yea he a weenie, why we gotta pretend?
take off the leopard print, I put on the sheepskin
the kids, not mine one hundred and ten percent
twenty-eighteen, we don't slut shame
ain't trippin' off the weight, let the gut hang
twenty-eighteen, we don't slut shame
ain't trippin' off the weight, let the gut hang
Chorus
Boy, you better be careful, playing with the pink toe
"Why you with her, she playing with your ego"
come between you and everyone you think close
have kids with her, your baby will probably think slow
ever seen you with her late night, holding hands
maybe you just pimping her, out for a dance
hanging on the corner just trying to advance
bet she in your pocket whenever she get the chance
saying she Columbian, nigga she white
never been comfortable with down south rides
mama said, you get caught with her get fifteen to life
but she always comes through when the bills too high
and she always came through, you was in a bind
even talking about marrying her, suit and tie
sisters say, she take the good ones, they honestly right
cause over them white bitches niggas willing to die
Chorus
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4. |
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I'm hungry man, still hungry man
STIK FIGA MAYNE!
Chorus
Square Biz, don't get bent out of shape
at the roundtable spare ribs on the plate
contribute to the meal or you don't get to complain
probably be the same way until I sit in my grave
I spit passionate bars how I rap is bizarre
call it murder in the first but what happened is art
you probably feel me more if you was trafficking hard
who need universal acclaim when I'm collapsing a star
Birdman hand rubs, palms covered in lambs blood
Topeka, Kansas the type of nigga you can't trust
grown ass man, I probably should pull my pants up
won't get past the judge I'm fitting that damn glove
oh, he a thug, told Harpo to beat Oprah
swallow pig feet then say I don't eat chocha
I ain't even street but I know some heat holders
that don't need paper planes to send you to meet Hova
I am trying to Roc the Nation, drunk off of King Kobra
smoke Malik Yoba, that means that I'm still sober
quit the codeine just bring me a peach soda
smart money's on me, I'm calling the green Yoda
Mobbin' down tenth ave, ride for a brief distance
seen cheap weaves slipping and fiends with they teeth missing
at night, might see little homies relief pitching
can tell you about the central, you ain't even got to visit
cultured in the hood ran with the blue bulls
ate Great Wall, a nigga was too full
they was dipping menthols, Newports and few Kools
learned pressure makes diamonds, I was raised on Jewell
a misfit, skipped Christmas, still gifted
a rugrat who's folks ain't visit Dr. Lipschitz
ain't got a lot of whippings, I was raised different
but my cousins got hit with extension cords and switches
town made me, indifferent and disillusioned
everybody ruined complain or give a solution
how can I have faith in your corrupted institution
when they continue to treat us like we three-fifths human
with crippled hands, I scribble chants, for fickle fans
visit distant lands for kids who ain't get the chance
just another nigga trying to wiggle at the jam
and I did it for our spirit and put it in God's hands
in advance, you all know what I'm capable of
mislabelled a punk cause your raps ain't creative enough
everybody so tough and animated I shrug
let's put it all on the table, have to wait until I budge
they saying "bruh, you as good as your last hit"
in that same vein a nigga just really got tapped in
not pantomiming a boxed to get trapped in
the game fishy this rap shit is really catfish
on a quest chasing love, the right choice
express black thought while cutting through white noise
can only speak for myself I never liked my voice
but I stand on my words and describe my poise
Chorus
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MILES BONNY Tres Piedras, New Mexico
New Music for Old Souls. Musician based in Taos, New Mexico. Born in NYC.
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