Piñata

作词 : Madlib/Freddie Gibbs

作曲 : Madlib/Freddie Gibbs

Live like 9-5, I rhyme and come alive

My grind divides fine through my divine eyes

It's primetime, you wish you could buy time but it's my time

Thoughts against I, blasphemy, it's like a vice crime

I roll 'em thick and I ignite mines

I don't even get high, I just get equally back in my right mind

I'm getting lethal with these nice lines, creeping through your speakers

Catch you sleeping like a thief off in the nighttime

Young Doms, none of you niggas correspond, b***h

Kick the **** out of the track on some Jean-Claude shit

Get the **** out of the streets, nigga, I bomb shit

Shit ain't all good no more, y'all on your con shit

**** is your conscience? Testing me is nonsense

The whole city is mine, I'm the best off in my conference

Ain't feeling me? Fine, ain't gotta listen to my shit

You can hear about me from the critics all on my d**k

B***h, I've been thuggin' since the mother****in' ten-speed

Redbone on my handlebars, I like my b*****s mixed-breed

Fill a Philly Titan with a twenty sack of stress weed

Educated, at the stove I'm working recipes

Reputation say I'm robbin' just for recreation

Revive my enemy with gun-to-mouth resuscitation

Can't wait 'til this little p***y nigga pay me, I'm impatient

Let's go kick in the door and strip 'em naked, leave 'em stinking

No witness, no weapon, my nigga, the case is over

The reaper snatched him, closed-casket, his family need some closure

And Moses had ten commandments, Huey had ten points

Won't see my homie for ten, dropped him off at the joint

Staring at my future in my rear-view

Family cried some tears, I got some years, it ain't no issue

Mama where the tissue? Saw her breaking down, she just might cry a river

Murder one, she can't believe she raised that type of nigga

I tried to do right, but it only got your boy ****ed in the game

So I changed my mind, now I'm back on this grind tryna get this change

Niggas hate to see me getting it, traveling packs with a red dot

Pointed at your knot, trying to get what you got

When the rain and the pain gon' stop?

Standing on the porch early, no shoes, selling blow in my socks

And I was watching for the ghetto bird

Ain't got no money for college so all I know is how to sack and how to serve

I be damned if I miss another lick for the chips

Got me stacking, almost splurging on weed, syrup, and whips

Niggas around my way be loving it, I'm Cadillac-in'

Blowing good alligators with the belts to match

I got an ounce with an ounce to match, bust it down, get back

Hopefully, maybe get the clique out the trap

I need dough like a bread baker

24/7, got ready on the turf, player

All-day

Make 'em hop in the new coupe

Niggas been winning, that ain't nothing new

Forgive me for the sinning that they be doing in this business

Not using their words to express truth

Out in the streets with a screw loose

On the Westside I got the juice

Just tell me what you trying to do

She loving the crew and ain't ****ing with you

I go where the hood niggas get into it

I go where the bad girls go shop

Every window tinted but the rooftop

That money I just spend it to get you shot

Can they be hating? They got no reason

Right where they got me, the place I delete 'em

We kicking on weaklings just for they little secrets

I can't believe it, the shit that I'm seeing

I'm hearing they words, doing my reading

It's really absurd, not enough leaders

The shit that they feed you, it's just what you eating

They call me young Veggies, I make it go green

Uhh, I smash your whole team, the **** is you saying?

You got the candies, the niggas is spraying

To get away and take over the land, yeah

My mind on capital, I'm not just rapping, dude

I'm out to speak actual factual, watch how a master moves

You ball a fist, what that gon do? I'm from a city clapping fools

You off the tit lacking while watching me fashion stools

Shitting styles, you never had a hotline that I didn't dial (Hello?)

Little princes always trying to fit a bigger crown

But don't forget I sit amidst some seasoned gents

Them b*****s knowing he a pimp ain't even need to read the blimp (It was a good day)

Good day to O'Shea, a death certificate for anyone who lay in my way

You best revisit all the tombstones that lay in my wake

Me being knowledge, be honest

You seen the prophet get sacrificed by the opps

It get ratchet when ratchets out and they firing

Residue on piñatas, wonder what's up inside of 'em

It's sure ain't no Vicodin cause it up and excited 'em

But they ain't get high enough, if you ain't succeed, nigga

Buy again and try again

It's the irrational type of nigga to John Madden tackle you

Steal your car keys and crash your coupe in the botanical

Wrap you with shackles, tangle you, pull from every angle, dismantle you

Watch your blood mixed with mud and stain the gravel too

Grab and shoot, ribcage open like a parachute

Close range, switchblade, poke 'em if it's personal

Bloodstains, gold fangs, mask on, no trace

Murder one, closed case, stolen whip, no plates

Half a body in the trunk—go to prison? No way

Speed off the Brooklyn Bridge before I catch a cold case

Realize I'm the voice, for those who do not have a voice

So I voice my ****ing voice, I don't have a ****ing choice

Cold-blooded, leave some niggas, well I hope you got insurance

Shotgun and shorty lift 'em like the potent in my joint

Barrels smoking like Red Auerbach

Still can't believe I'm getting fed on rap

I don't know what's louder, the pack or the gat

Woo!

My endorphins are morphin', absorbin' energy

Original copy, "A Tale of Two Cities" gets read to me

Reading Emerson novels, eating some Belgian waffles

Some powder go up my nostrils, my d**k going down her tonsils

What's up? Play with an abacus, I've been stressing like Catholics

That's the shit, a bit of that happiness in my cup

This generation corrupt, these people brainwashed with evil

My music is more cerebral, exploring just what you need to

So this your exodus, Church of the Methodist

Beating up the p***y, have her screaming like a exorcist

Ahhhhhh

Absorb it through your pores, the Lord with horns, a world war

Whores are more hors d'oeuvres when it's a world tour

O'Doyle rules