Something To Believe In (feat. Lou Armstrong, Patrick Starr, Moroney, Blanco) (Explicit)

Something To Believe In(feat. Lou Armstrong, Patrick Starr, Moroney, Blanco) (Explicit) - Slaine

Er'day I wake up to the same sh*t

I've been caking G

But nowadays the more niggas hating

They in the cut sitting patient

Waiting for me to meet God or Satan

I'm in the streets where the killers roam

The villains know if you fake like silicones

You talk about it but inside the kid will grow

And under pressure he'll fall man I should've known

Sh*t I deal with tryin' to make a mil quick

Still sit in front of a real chick to chill with

I know about a dollar neck froze upon a collar

O's and the cameras goons holding on a llama's tec

Blowing for the drama got a choking for your mama

Why she blowin' on his gamma getting low in the Bahamas

Slaine salute get on some lyrical sh*t

It's a miracle I ain't spiritual the sh*t that I live

That real street sh*t

Real niggas that I eat with

Let the heat spit getting caught on sea sh*t

Running with killers so the greediest can't

It's Lou Armstrong AKA the city is mine

3 things I hate girls women and b**ches

Spit venom I hack spit vivel collect it

Cynical feet a lyrical dick I'm hot

I'm tip a stick the miracle whip I'm not

To be f**ked with period lips

With them pyramids I'm beverage with spiritual ficks next to me

Your whole crew is a terrible mix

I'm a don you're a pawn America's b**ch

And you're quick to verticle flip

Which means you snitch and heard of a tip b**ch

Ni**a skin you and turn you to mix

Magic similar to an urban who's sick

Tragic that's where to a turban that ticks

Flowin up memorial satorial showing it's fixed

You're an orphan and me I done fathered you

And often I'm awesome the chips I done off with you

It's big deal but the deal might cost you

Moroney I'm the best bar one

These lame a** rappers got bars none

I sh*t bars it's a bar stool

High off the lips and the jenicks looks like a cartoon

Spark tools harpoons are harm dudes

Wet 'em up while they went away that's a carpool

Your girlfriend is a b**ch and you are too

She's down for the D too so don't argue

Fly talker sky walker high offer

That sour patch holla back if you let the dollar stack

Cash try to hate but take pics and ask for autograph

Copy cats hang 'em out the dry like a towel rag

I told y'all I ain't the runner up

I'm so high I'm literally running up

Bllunted up with 2 L's that's a double dutch

I'm on the bottom she's on the top I'm coming up

The beam heavy only got 'em dropping like right now

Them things heavy on me get 'em poppin' like right now

Y'all better back down quiet or hide down

Or have some niggas right now lying your a** down

'Cause when the beef come these niggas never there

We gonna bring it to your man so 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

Old town beam town BX the beam on

Still on the block trying to see checks and seamore

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

We hit makers we get paper

Get chicks to taste us better said we're the best

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

Same chum motherf**ker we the best of the best

Look we all need something to believe in

And this world living inside of you it's fief

You can pray to Jesus Christ for your f**king life if you like

You can be the white picket fence type with the wife

You can knock her up twice ain't the f**king lights

From the pipes you know that b**ches thrife

When you come home from work and you find her getting piped

By some jerk do you kill her with the knife

'Cause the world crushed all that you believed in

And she's living 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 till I crush the truck

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

Turn the motherf**king mall to a massacre

Swear to God I ain't living like a dog

I'm taking what I want till I'm living in the prison or a morgue

Talking to myself the television isn't on

Smoking chrome on the lawn writing rhytims 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 f**k you if the world's against me

I change the story all around on my MC