Текст песни Albee Al - Hood Olympics (Remix; feat. Freeway)
All I'm saying is the remix for this Hood Olympics
Oh, of course
Oh, there you go, man
This gladiator
This is the remix
This isn't right
This is the remix
The minute I was looking out the window
You feel me?
This is the remix
Tryna get the homies home, swinging for the fences
Used to make a thousand dollars sitting on the benches
Coulda hopped going for it like it's four for inches
We were talking 'bout bodies, put me in the Olympics
Put me in the
Million dollar nigga parked in the trenches
Man, I was all in her mouth, I coulda been a dentist
Yeah, I keep that shit on me, I won't be a victim
You like a red nose, I'ma tell 'em, "Sink 'em"
Look, I ain't got oppas, I just got haters
Never tell a cop nothin', never give 'em data
When you a real motherfucker, you don't count favors
Compact 45 with the green laser
Mask on in the streets, fightin' like I'm Vega
Darth Vader, Luke Skywalker
Last opp I caught lackin', he in the sky walkin'
Got a sixth sense, sometimes I hear the sky talkin'
I hate a hoe, I hate a bitter nigga
Had D watch yo kid like a sitter nigga
See, I'm the type to hop out and go and get a nigga
I never seen a casket that can't fit a nigga
No casket, this shit feel like the vengeance or something
Like X-Men, Super Force, Team USA
Feel you, my nigga
Mobsters
Free, silly, we're on going when we've been on it
We stand on it, wallahi, got a hundred Muslim makis in a pen on it
I'm always there when they call me, and your bra be on go too
I pull my hammer out and let her sit on me
Hoods save your streets, love me, speak the hoods' language
Keep the ladder, all my hope is gettin' next to you
Fireman, grab the pole because we live dangerously
Came upstairs, old anguish, made the big building famous
Please link what I'll be out, it's that feeling, ain't it?
Y'all niggas wanna meet your maker, we can make arrangements
I'll be in Jamaica sippin' daiquiris with Maya
Then my shooter gets the wire, second, that your body hits the pavement
Yeah, we used to hit the road to get the payment
Used to have to use the duffel bag to get to the kitchen
We still hit the road to get the dough, but we ain't pushin' purse
But Mortis pay me 80K for spoken word
Y'all bass pull up and let me poke they bellies
Every time y'all niggas stress them out and hurt they nerves
Lost my son, daughter, and father, then I re-emerged
Still destined for greatness, bout to get the paper, we just shot
This for my niggas puttin' grams on the clock
Get them out of the trap, it's gon be a standoff with Swap
My last deal gave Wes a 100 grand off the top
Ever see a grown man get run off a block? (Ran off the block)
Wait, have you ever run off of blocks?
The whole city knows, you've got bread on your top
Fuck that, tell me, ever had to hand off a Glock?
And don't feel no regrets when you hear all the shots (hear all the shots)
Ah, the streets made me what I'm runnin' from
Heavy influence, see my homie with a rollie
And I wanted one now, he on a tear, eatin' honey buns
I'm still here, he knows I got him like the gear
When you bungee jump, it's butch
I was in a gang when y'all fronted, in a lunch line
Askin' for change for a 100, when it's crush time
With the clip don't hang, I don't want it
Got a beam on the front, but can't aim with a button
I don't downplay this rap shit, y'all niggas too street, huh?
I'm on tour for like two, three months
Me and a fork versus a pop like a 2V1
Too many bricks, I called him and told him you keep some
Watchin' the YSL trial
Dr. D.A. and the ATF
Don't worry about the IRS now
You could've paid me to go back
That's bullshit, nigga
I just was there with like 80 on my neck
Yo, they tryna make bars irrelevant
Followers and likes are the new artist development
Know me, I stick to the element
Gun in the trunk, that's a damn near as big as an elephant
Put the cuffs on him
They tellin' it who shot who, and who got what, and who sellin' it
Niggas leakin' fluid, see me gettin' to it (yeah)
My man got an elbow and he ain't even do it (right)
Don't try to understand me, muzzle on the swim
Give me a bag on your head, that's a duffel on your family (done)
It could be a key, an ounce, hope you see it bounce
Till they let the bros go, may they be free to count (ho)
Give a fuck how you feel about the old cats
Some harder than a pedal to the shin on the rollback
Nigga, I sold crack, whole lot, down south, middle of the trenches
Little niggas with gold cap
Bluff, don't exist, hit a sauce on your bitch
Money ain't a thing, but it costs to be rich
Niggas only wanna hold a torch when it's lit
In time, you'll realize he ain't awesome as this
You know me, wherever the work be
Celebrate me on my birthday, not when they murk me
From Walburton to Marion
We get it done, y'all niggas carry on
Just tryna get the homies home, swingin' for the fences (home run)
Used to make a thousand dollars sitting on the benches
Coulda hopped going for it like it's four for inches
We were talking 'bout bodies, put me in the Olympics
Put me in the
Million dollar nigga parked in the trenches
Man, I was all in her mouth, I coulda been a dentist
Yeah, I keep that shit on me, I won't be a victim
You like a red nose, I'ma tell 'em, "Sink 'em"
