paroles de chanson Jonah Hill (feat. Eugene Miranda & MyGuy FlyRy) - Prim0s

For show, for show, I'm getting that for show
Cool out and just check how my soul glow
Bruce Leroy on the mic, you already know
I'm Jonah Hill if we talking hoes or talking dough
Don't get it, well it means I'm getting that for show
I'm getting that for show

Yo, so you could catch me at the Space Needle flicking off Taurus
Maybe at your cousin's house, dicking down your Aunt Doris
See, I say anything, whatever comes to mind, like
Remember when Kanye said Beyonce had the best album of all time
We running on stage, snatching awards
Like 30 deep Wu-Tang shit, we even got swords
Cats is old school, we fire with hollow tip bars
Inflate on impact to make sure survivors are sparse
Uh, yeah, you tuned into some hip-hop stars
Ayo, your crew might be nice, but they ain't fresh like ours
Uh, cool out and just check how the homie flow
Everybody and they mama know the boy cold
Be my guest, step up if you feeling bold
See, this is real hip-hop, you ain't even know

Shimmy, shimmy, y'all, shimmy y'all damn Ye
How the hell you fumble when you had a Kim K
Feeling like Ice Cube today was a good day
Swung by Mickey D's, had a fish to fillet
All day, Ry say whatever comes to mind
Like, keep calling me son, cause the kid gon' shine
Got a sharp-ass mind, word to Porcupine
Trigger squeeze for the cheese, I'm here for all of mine

Think of short-changing me? Gon' be Columbine
Lord forgive me, as I get high as a frisbee
Puff clouds like a chimney
Float, free like a gypsy
Aladdin, I'm gliding, but I'm Dapper damn
Word to Harlem, I'm a spark it, Let it spray like I farted
Flow's retarded, I go stupid, dumb, crazy,
Y'all same sounding raps, boy y'all never did amaze me
Microwave raps, cause you popped in minutes
When you step to the God, boy you should be timid
This is one of a kind, enjoy my time
I'll say it again, I'm here for all of mine
Stay back, stay back, this life ain't sick, Jack
This original A-track, super clean with the Ajax
Catch me on tour if you wanna go to war dog
Cause the Wardogs I know is real
With them heavy guns, this ain't an act Jonah Hill
And know it's Super Bad if we flash the steel
But no director's cut when we shoot Jonah Hill

For show, for show, I'm getting that for show
Cool out and just check how my soul glow
Bruce Leroy on the mic, you already know
I'm Jonah Hill if we talking hoes or talking dough
Don't get it, well it means I'm getting that for show
I'm getting that for show

You might win some, but you just lost one
You might win some, but you just lost one
Bruce Leroy on the mic, you already know
Shonuff, I can even make the speakers glow
Catching bullets with my teeth, you don't hear me though
Communication failure, some can't be reached, I'm told
Honestly, I don't give a fuck what you do
Jocking another nigga's shine like that reflects on you
Black magic on the track, putting a hex on you
Like, Voodo, running from my magic
You don't want no static with them boys from the Keys
We got many different styles, serve you through numerous means
It's in the genes, you say you hot, but just blowing steam
It's the hipper to the hopper, doper than triple beams
I'm a one-man army like the ODB
Throwing shame on wack niggas trying to cypher with me
Peace

You might win some, but you just lost one

I ain't here to make friends, I make classics, you bastards
That white ghost, yo we call it Casper then thrasher faster
Scene left in a disaster
Whipping that bitch, make a hit own masters
Reverse uno, you know I impregnated Juno

Took a spaceship, an landed on Pluto
Ry done found a loophole, I I lost my scruples
Now I'm whipping them noodles,
Paint pics like I doodle
It's the cool duo, here for menudo
Down the lane, ankle sprain,
Might rehab with some Mary Jane
Might, shit, Ry done, took a flight
I've been sky high since Grant Hill, drinks Sprite
This that put you on a map
Lame shit, we ain't on to that
Follow don't mean a follow back
I'm drippy like a shower cap
That's just the fact
This just a rap
This light work, took an hour flat
Acapella, nigga, way off the sour pack
You nice my nig devoured that
A diesel when I'm on the track
Whitney Houston way before the crack
Bobby Brown with the hight top flat,
Your the sweet flap jack raps,
Nigga we ain't jacking that nigga
Nah, we ain't jacking that

You might win some, but you just lost one
You might win some, but you just lost one