Lyrics
Ohhhhhhhh
Yeah
Yeah (Wopidy bop)
How many times I gotta tell ya (Tell ya)
I done been around the world (World)
Boy done seen a lot of things (A lot of things)
I done been to Istanbul (Uh huh), to the UK (Ahh), to LA (Rocking)
Now I’m back in Cackalack (Bull City) where it all started (All started)
Ok (Ok), tryna figure out ya part (Oooo)
\Which way he gonna go?
Keep ‘em on dey toes, keep ‘em on dey toes
Never slippin’ on this rocky road (Oooo)
We in the lab (We in the lab)
Still NABS and Chris
Still Michael Jackson Bad
Still Arsenio Hall
Still Sinbad
Still Soul Train
Just Google the name
You’ll find DJ NABS a legend in the game
Listen (Yeah)
What you done for me lately man (Man)
I tellin' you they be hating man (Man)
Then they get mad when I gotta straighten ‘em (Oooo)
Walltown done good where I come from
Think about it (Yeah), ten toes down you can get some
(My boy NABS)
We in da hood (In da hood)
We get it from up out da mud (The Southern Brothas)
Blood, sweat and tears, on the grind (On the grind)
It’s three-six-five-two-four-seven
Break time up boy back to grind
It’s three-six-five, two-four-seven live
They like, won’t you just die, won’t you just retire
I’m like it’s the Lord’s Day, I’m ‘bout day fire
Catch me in the pulpit man I take ‘em higher
You won’t catch me on no bullshit
No, I’m not no liar
When I spit, you gone get wet
You gone need a dryer
Word play and punchlines, that’s not my forte
I believe you step to the mic, you better have somethin’ to say boy
I know, y’all just want to be entertained
Because you going through so much
You wanna be numb to the pain
Y’all don’t want to deal with reality
You rather collect yo salary and overindulge in calories
Don’t tell me the truth, just tell me a fallacy
For that, Imma treat you like Twitter
Make you my ex, I’m breaking out boy ‘cause I got allergies
Cetuká might just be too much just out your league
We in da hood (In da hood)
We get it from up out da mud
Blood, sweat and tears, on the grind (On the grind)
It’s three-six-five-two-four-seven
Break time up boy back to grind
From Florida to Maine, I got my feet wet in da game
East coast Baggz, all you saw was the back of my car tags
Any open night, I was doing open mics
Out da mud, through ya speakers, in the clubs
No frontin’ (No frontin’)
Middle of the floor, rocking Hampton homecoming
106 & Park, backstage with Free, showing my artistry
SMS Key, down in Myrtle Beach, Chubbs, and E KB ROC
Ask Mike Nice and Skaz, Brorabb
Never came whack
Linked up with legendary DJ NABS
One-fourth, Sir Baggz on y’all neck
It’s a rap, TSB across the map
Hold dat (Vroom)
We in da hood (In da hood),
We get it from up out da mud (We in da mud)
Blood, sweat and tears, on the grind (On the grind)
It’s three-six-five-two-four-seven (All day round)
Break time up boy back to grind
I'm Nine-one-nine (Nine), three-six-five (Five)
Hours to the minute
I’m in it and doing fine (Fine)
Weeks to the days
Amaze, I just blaze (Blaze)
Beats to the rhyme
I grind, the funk laid (Laid)
Twenty-four-seven
I reckon that I be checkin’ in
Cashin’ out, raise the amount
They catch the reckoning
That I will and shall proceed
To plant seed (Seed)
To manifest the forever vibe they all need (Need)
Been there, done that
It's old hat
Resurrection through funkin' lesson a pro at that
I’m Camp Hill, swallow the red pill, reveal (Reveal)
Uncut, dropping it curtain made of steel (Steel)
That line there, that’s one you will not feel
Unless you know ‘bout "Misrep," that "Knuckleheads" and "What Da Deal"
Coast to coast, been live like Colin Jost
Since Barker was the host
I won showcase, both