Something To Believe In - Slaine

Er’day I wake up to the same shit

I’ve been caking, Cheya

But nowadays the more niggas hating

Cheya, They in the cut sitting patient

Waiting for me to meet God or Satan

Cheya, I’m in the streets where the killers roam

Them villains know if you fake like silicone

You talk about it but inside the kid a clone

And under pressure he’ll fold, Man I should’ve known

Shit I deal with, Tryin' to make a mil.

quick

Still sick, Can find a real chick to chill with

I know about a dollar, Neck frozen by the collar

Them O’s and then them timers, Goons holding on a Llama’s

TEC blowing for the drama, Got a Trojan for your mama

Why she blowin' on this gamma, Getting low in the Bahamas

Slaine said Lou, «Get on some lyrical shit»

It’s a miracle I ain’t spiritual the shit that I live with

That real street shit, Real niggas that I eat with

Let the heat spit, getting caught and don’t see shit

Running with killers of the grittiest kind

It’s Lou Armstrong

AKA The City Is Mine c’mon

Three things I hate girls, women and bitches

Spit venom I hock spit, Vivica licked it

Cynical fit a lyrical dick, I’m hot

My temp is dipped lyrical whip, I’m not

To be fucked with, Period lips

With them pyramids I’m buried with spirituals fixed next to me

Your whole crew is a terrible mix

I’m a Don you’re a pawn, America’s bitch

And you’re quick to verticle flip

Which means you snitch of heard of a tip bitch

Niggas skin you and turn you to mix

Magic, Similar to an Earvin was sick

Tragic, that’s wear to a turban that ticks

Flowing up memorial, sartorial showing it’s fixed

You’re an orphan and me I done fathered you

And often I’m awesome, The chips I done offered you

It’s big deal, But the deal might cost you

Hey Yo

Moroney, I’m the best bar none

These lame ass rappers got bars, None

I shit bars it’s a bar stool

High off hallucinogenics, looks like a cartoon

Spark tools, Harpoons are harm dudes

Wet 'em up while they in the whip, That’s a carpool

Your girlfriend is a bitch and you are too

But she’s down for the D too, so don’t argue

Anak-fly-talker Skywalker, high off a

That Sour Patch, holla back if you let your dollars stack

Cats try to hate but take pics and ask for autographs

Copy cats hang 'em up to dry like a towel rag

I told y’all I ain’t the runner up

I’m so high, I’m literally running up

Blunted up, with two L’s, that’s a double Dutch

I’m on the bottom she’s on the top, I’m cuming up

The beam ready homie, Got 'em dropping like right now

Them things heavy on me, Get 'em poppin' like right now

Y’all better back down, quiet or hype down

Or have some niggas right now, Lying your ass down

Cause when the beef come these niggas never there

We gonna bring it to your mans or whoever there

I got them dudes on the streets and they rubber band

Bullets crushing bones you can see we ain’t never scared

You can see that we everywhere

O-Town to Bean Town, BX to B-More

Still on the block trying to see checks to see more

We ain’t gonna stop till the whole team eat more

We Hit Makerz, we get paper

Get chicks to taste us, Berra said it the best

And we ain’t gonna stop never put it to rest

It’s HM motherfucker we the best of the best

Look we all need somethin' to believe in

And this world I live inside of yeah it’s trife

You can pray to Jesus Christ for your fuckin' life if you like

You can be the white picket fence type with the wife

You can knock her up twice, hang the fuckin' Christmas lights

From the pipes, You know that bitches trife

When you come home from work and you find her gettin' piped

By some jerk, Do you kill her with the knife?

'Cause the world crushed all that you believe in

And she’s livin' with the mailman in your crib

And your kid’s call him daddy while their Mama drive a Caddy

That those cocksuckers paid for with your bread

I would rather sip Goose from a plastic cup

Get sucked by my broad 'til I crash the truck

I would rather quit a job, where they treat me like a slob

Turn the motherfuckin' mall to a massacre

Swear to God I ain’t livin' like a dog

I’m taking what I want 'til I’m livin' in the prison or a morgue

Talkin' to myself the television isn’t on

Smokin' chron on the lawn writin' rhythms to a song

That’s who I been man, who I’ll always be

I’m stil the same kid back from them hallways G

So fuck you if the world’s against me

I’ll change the story all around I’mma emcee