Shyheim - What Makes the World Go Round Lyrics

Lyrics What Makes the World Go Round - Shyheim



There a toker, under the numb, scumb looker
Get the gatherin, big willy, me, thug rich and booker
The gun to gun, face off, street smart nigga
That I′m ready to tear your numbers right off the burners
To throw the D-8 trace off, ruckus click cause the mystery
Sellin, which, cap killin, go down in history
You dissin me, bell to releact the combat
I sit back, when niggas throw raps
I be like, "where your are at"
It's a leaky-leak world and I don′t give a fuck
All I wanna do is puff that purple stuff
The sun ain't never shine on my block
It's like a permanent eclipse
The only light is gun spark
Fightin on the premissis, that you want to be yours
Catch your on the stairs, your floor′s eight
But, you won′t make it past four
I'm sick and tired of niggas actin high fashional
Flashin, wackin and not reactin
Yall niggas, know what time it is
Leavin niggas withour no watches
When I drop this shit about hustlin
Yall niggas know, who rhyme it is
You gettin the head from bathroom
To book-book to rap-rap to tracks-tracks to wax-wax
When starts toss the headphone
The dead zone, MC′s get done since
The grittiest square root
Equals a dead mother fucker in my circumference
The shell maxed, well matched, dressed in black leather
To come through buildin for buildin
Jack dead for crime cheddar
All day, I dream about guns, money, cars and bitches
Thirsty niggas, who want my riches
I got somethin for em, in '96, you gotta be trife or die
That′s how it is in the streets of S.I., in god we trust the lye
Niggas I run with, their mentality is fuck it
And heated with a vest, gun cocked ready to buck shit
Altough they do, to makin crack and dope sales
And jiggy-jigg won't stop us from gettin the dough, for real
Money, clips and fat stacks make the world go round
What makes the world go round
Alcohol and marijuana makes the world go round
What makes the world go round
Cocaine, lactose and boilin water makes the world go round
What makes the world go round
Big guns, money and pussy makes the world go round
What makes the world go round, round
Shaolin, Stapleton born and raised
The battlegrounds is where we spend most of our days
I lick a shot for niggas slingin cooked up rocks
To make the prophet, so all yall crap niggas need to stop it
I see my peeps transform like Autobots
Shootin at missed, prime ass niggas, who stop us from makin figgaz
We can′t be eliminated, the world wil be contaminated
G.P. players activated
Shot twenty shells, twenty heads fell
Twenty bodies rapped, twenty churches rung death bells
The bitch fucker, the thug cop chucker
The Glock under my belt, tucker, the wild mother fucker
My lifestyles, maxin, taxin, a pistol wipin
Girl come here, bitch slapped and carjackin
Cap carrier, contract arrangin, twenty-thousand dollar hit
Body, the scenic
Bet your life nigga on two red and one green dice
For fifty cents, nickels or get nice and pay the price
A hot rolex with ice, fit around my wrist
A gorilla in the mist, with a four fifth, kill you and your bitch
Get you open like bullet wounds, deadly like toxic fumes
Get my peoples??? through all the ballons
Wack rappers and listeners, this for all yall
Can't follow, put my records out on virgin
Cause my styles be sellin
Brooklyn and Shaolin puttin the hurtin in front of the curtain
Hookin and crookin, I'm takin back uptown, back downtown like fulton
I house the best, when I be rappin, I be packin
So niggas in clubs, fire marshalls got me on house arrest
Front, I caution it, I bless so many mics
After I die, niggas′ll cut my hand off and auction it
Nineteen seventy-seven, february eighth
This little nigga be packin big, but I ain′t got faith to hustle it
Thugs, slugs and drugs make the world go round
What makes the world go round
Hand in pistol, pull out the gristle makes the world go round
What makes the world go round
Murderers and carjackers make the world go round
What makes the world go round
State to state, pushin weight make the world go round
What makes the world go round, tound, round, round, round
Brooklyn, Brownsville makes the world go round
Shaolin, Stapleton makes the world go round
G.P. Wu makes the world go round
D.R. Period makes the world go round
D.V. Alias Khrist makes the world go round
I said the ruckus makes the world go round
Mr. Trigger makes the world go round
Smoothe Da Hustler, definitely makes the world go round
Shyheim makes the world go round
Rubbabandz makes the world go round
The Nexx Level Click makes the world go round
It be the crew that makes the world go round
It be the crew, it be the crew that makes the world go round
It be the crew, it be the crew makes the world go round



Writer(s): Pittman Darryl, Franklin Shyheim Dionel


Shyheim - The Lost Generation
Album The Lost Generation
date of release
28-05-1996




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