paroles de chanson Oh Sweet America - Group Home
Aiyo,
New
York
tracks,
keep
me
phat
like
that
I
exercise
with
fitness,
to
support
my
back
It's
going
on
black,
and
I'm
out
to
get
mines
Bust
in
the
place
with
a
New
York
rhyme
Yo
some
people
are
mindless,
and
don't
know
what
the
time
is
Mess
around
with
the
wrong
one,
and
get
expired
I'm
gettin
fired,
offa
the
smoke
and
the
blunts
Killin
big
bids
offa
a
gangsta
hunt
Don't
front,
what
do
you
want?
I
push
a
trick
with
a
stunt
We
got
out
of
town
hits,
and
like
George
likes
Pits
Cuz
I
flex
with
a
Polo
around
my
wrist
Nothing
changed...
{Lil
Dap}
Uh,
my
bad
decision
in
the
game
got
me
flippin
on
cats
Now
that
I'm
back,
puttin
Brooklyn
down
on
the
map
Cuz
you
know
this
camera's
on
me,
and
my
sons
right
now
Pimpin
our
sounds,
watch
how
we
Tear
Shit
Down
I
cause
blow
a
catastrophe,
I
master
thee
The
game
of
rap,
so
don't
fuck
with
Dap,
I
dance
with
my
track
You
bust
you
neen,
I
bust
my
nena
back
Rhymes
sharp
like
thumbtacks,
with
enough
contacts
To
blow
my
enemies
off
the
map,
If
they
try
to
attack...
2X:
Lil
Dap
Oh
Sweet
America,
how
could
it
be?
Can't
see
my
people
dying
in
the
streets
no
more
Got
to
hustle
from
the
bottom
just
to
feed
the
poor
Understanding
what's
right,
realizing
what's
wrong
*(second
time,
the
last
line
gets
left
out)*
{Melachi
The
Nutcracker}
Yo
I
salute
the
mic,
when
I
take
flight
Plus
my
styles
real
hype,
and
I'm
feeling
allright
So
go
with
the
flow,
let's
see
what
all
of
you
know
I
flip
like
G.I.
Joe,
with
mad
potential
I'm
about
to
get
mine,
you
know
it's
about
that
time
My
people
losing
their
mind,
off
the
Group
Home
rhyme
Murdering
crime,
people
on
the
streets
playing
for
keeps
Brand
new
jeeps,
riding
thru
on
the
creep
Who
care?
I
guess
that
everyone
is
scarred
Better
be
preparred,
cuz
the
worst
is
near
The
Group
Home
is
here,
open
your
ears
and
stand
clear
Crack
your
bears,
we've
been
doing
this
for
years
{Lil
Dap}
How
could
it
be?
Cuz
if
you
bust
for
me,
I
have
to
bust
for
you
These
old
school
rules,
got
me
spittin
lyrics
at
you
I'm
thinking
hard
and
serious
and
going
back
to
the
time
When
cats
were
scarred
to
death
to
even
say
that
they
rhyme
Cuz
it
was
off
the
meters,
niggas
had
to
throw
their
dick
beaters
Block
parties
with
heaters,
no
crooked
to
feed
us
It's
7 days
in
a
week,
12
months
in
a
year
But
between
the
nonsense
we'll
drop
a
jewel
this
year
Keep
your
eyes
open,
stoppin
off
the
ends
when
we
rock
Poppin
your
clutch,
and
starving
mc's
to
rock
And
walk
with
fear,
keepin
my
momentum
in
gears
Excess
is
near,
my
niggas
can
smell
it
in
your
ear
2000
and
beyond,
Group
Home
are
bombing
ya,
son
My
crew
number
one,
no
competion
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