But You Don't Hear Me Tho
Lyrics
I've never told (ay man, the language brother)
Motherfucker, this ain't back in the day
Statik what up?
LOX in this joint
This ain't back in the day
Yeah
Mother, mother
Motherfucker, this ain't back in the day
This ain't back in the day
Back, back in the day
But you don't hear me though
But you don't hear me though
But you don't hear me though
But you don't hear me though
Bumping that Statik with the automatic on my hip
Blue whip, Navy paper plane, no, I ain't a crip
We used to have the hallway fogged up, smoking reefer
Yeah I went to school but KRS was the teacher (Boogie Down Productions)
And Abel had to hustle hard to get fresh for Easter
Instead of celebrating Christ, I beat the goose twice
And fucked some lil' bitch on the steps
I do reps with these new rappers, it's cool though
The UFC, I'm still Judos
They hot right now, I'm like kudos
But fuck that
Yo, I like that new money, shit done changed on the block
So I don't reminisce even though I love Pete Rock
I give you bars, no microwave rap
I can take it down South, but it's gon' be my version of trap
Dondon, the God, money is long
I can't judge an artist off one song, but you don't hear me though
But you don't hear me though
But you don't hear me though
But you don't hear me though
But you don't hear me though
This ain't back in the days
If it was the niggas sound different and give you a pound different
I don't hate the trap but give me that boom bap
Yeah the 808 eating at the beats drill the 808
Told the owner Sal, veggies and the power
I used to freestyle for akh for a bottle of blue now
No MTA cards, hoppin' the turnstyle to catch the train home
Get your ass whooped you brought the pain home
The days when you knocked on your man's door
Yelled to the window so he could come outside
Drink a 40, light weed and y'all go and knock the grams off
Had to have hands or your shit was getting ran, dawg
Grew out of no hands in the sand yo
.45 and the woven that was tan yo
Thank God for this rap shit, clearly though
Back in the days shit was real, but you don't hear it though
But you don't hear me though
But you don't hear me though
But you don't hear me though
But you don't hear me though
Niggas 'cross town tryin' to bomb me, I had the certified army
'Fore I knew it was foul the harm still on me
If they caught you doing some bullshit, they tell your mami
Win, lose or draw, gotta go out if a nigga try me
When Jinny hooked up with Lionel, I had the Sugarhill vinyl
Before crack hit, it was just winos
Riots and looting, park jams with no shooting
When nigga's pops was hooping, heavy prostitution
Pirate radio was viciously on deck
Staying up late night with the tissue and the cassette
Hip hop is everything I got
Around this time, I was hooked on the King of Rock
I just wanna rap, I'ma go give this thing a shot
Looking back, I done never thought that this thing'll pop
Nah, right now I'm proud to be a part of the family
And you standing there just looking at me
But you don't hear me though
But you don't hear me though
But you don't hear me though
But you don't hear me though
But you don't hear me though
Motherfucker, this ain't back in the day
This ain't back in the day
Mother, mother
Motherfucker, this ain't back in the day
This ain't back in the day
Back, back in the day
But you don't hear me though
But you don't hear me though
Writer(s): Jason Phillips, David Styles, Sean Divine Jacobs, Patrick Baril
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Reservoir Media Management, Inc.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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