Crybaby (Explicit)-Tech N9ne

歌手 : Tech N9ne

专辑 : Killer (Explicit)

语种 : 英语

时长 : 04:36

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TXT Crybaby (Explicit)-Tech N9ne 文本歌词

I was born in 71' in Kansas City MO

My momma was a heavenly one so the fam was pretty slow

When it came to rap and R&B and plenty more

Check it if it wasn't on gospel apostle

Or written in the Bible then it go

So when they tell the baby don't do something then I end up doing it anyway

Like don't listen to rap it's the evil music of today

But I really fell in love with the sound that was coming out form the East Coast

So we got it and twisted it up a bit now the industry's having a heatstroke

Some say that rap is dead but when I get the white black and red

And jump on the tour bus do fifty eight shows then I'm back with a big black sack of bread

Can't believe that that was said cause I'm here with a stack of fed

And I got it from raphip hop or whatever and I did not have to beg

So here I stand the mic in hand with my rap attire

And I like my fans spending grands cause we got the fire

I merchandise like 5 G's every half an hour

And you cry like a baby so your mic must be your pacifier

When I read the magazine them rapper's sounding like

Wah wah wah

Crybaby

When I see them on the TV them rapper's sounding like

Wah wah wah

Whatcha crying bout

If it's negative I don't wanna hear it

Eliminating player haters with their evil spirits

I hear 'em talkin' they mad at Smurf and Souljah Boy

They hating big in the magazine and don't even know the boys

I know the ploy washed up rappers wanna attack people

Run up to the car pull out the mac lethal

Man that's a problem with the black people now

What ya need to know is that in the world there's a lot of dough to stack

And the ones that wanna hold us back ain't been outside they cul de sac

Every n***a I know is strapped rip shows that'll blow ya back

But notice that I can put it right down to where the shoulders at

Hating on the south Why Trippin' off them chips they got

You don't like that it's screwed and chopped

But you wanna get off in they pot

Wanna be MC you talk a lot up in the spot and you hot

'Cause they eighty fours be poking out

What the hell is you cryin' bout

Everybody wanna be killa but not for reala

Bout the method of making money you gotta get the milla

By doin' it like I do it do the work and believe in it

When you do it to the fullest ain't no problem achieving it

When I was broke homie I went for mills

Got on the mic with the intent to kill

Stronger than ever and you a gimp for real

I drink Caribou Lou and you drink Enfamil chump

You should be clapping when folk make it up outta the ghetto

Or trailer park it don't matter even if he black or if he guerro

But you don't know how to be male

Instead of a Timberland you probably in a stiletto

Better yet in a baby shoe jealous or maybe you

Sick of me cause I'm making dinero

And you don't wanna get clapped at

You want a standing ovation I thought not

You say you better than rappers on radio man that's false chop

Try to run up on me 'cause a benzo will never be in your car slot

Try to step up on the scene my infra red beam's right at your soft spot

If you was on TV and balling you wouldn't groan and trip

He'd keep hatred envy and bloodshed on his lip

Tech got long cream with chrome things on his whip

With a chrome thing on his hip

But just know your hip will not stop the hop

'Cause when you look at the big picture my block pops a lot daily

So keep on thinking my clock stops the shots

And I can quickly bury you in your Osh Kosh B'Gosh baby