paroles de chanson Mt. Everest - Inspectah Deck , Elzhi , U‐God

I make 'em nod like paedamin
See them live might dive off the mexamine
Ground drama, sound harder than crowd bonkers
I'm 'bout dollars, I touch down in your town, holla
IMS, gladiator, call him Russell Crowe
Son of pro, watch these lame niggas come and go
Blessed with the poison pen, murder was the case so I guess it's them boys again
Through your duce high, salute eyes, be the general, the last one to run
I will take all ten of you, I'm feeling myself BK whiling the belt
Rocking my shit, eyes on the real wealth
Me and Goldie tell 'em it's easy money
Now shorty wanna fuck, that's sleazy, honey
Fame call us, money, it change all us
Get it how you live it or sing the same
The game taught us, nothing in the bank for us
W claim walrus, yeah, we tank for life
Was raised on the island of the misfits
The children of the corn snatch your green with the cuits
It's what you might call food for thought
And what's the killer season if you don't include the shot
This cross will start a feud and leave your whole mood distraught
Used to feel safe until they unscrewed vault and
Took your common sense out your memory bank
Then dumped on you like missiles over enemy tanks
So homie, drop slow like you in front of five O
'Cause force go in the raw and your back is where the knives go
Ride the attic, hiding silver spoons
Being cut so deep, it's hard to heal the wounds
Those flashing don't blast, they still buffoons
Just blowing on hot air, they should fill balloons
Yo, I like them shorties that'll kill for goons
And start a hustle in an apron to cut wheels and tunes
I want leverage, ice cold beverage
Money I can't count, I blacked out standing on Mount Everest
Live lessons, the cover of essence
It's pure excellence parting right down my measurements
Politic the deficit, fingerprints, no evidence
Cocaine, caviar, hitting on receptionists
Hang with the specialists, go medalist
Presidential grant, eating stakes that's tenderous
Got my brand, catch me in Megan Fox' bed
Cash clock, Gucci, IPad, bag
It's all black, top Nikes, you fat lazies
Riches from rags, cash and diamond faces
Got promoted up, friends up in high places
Next move, my best move, chess move, the strategy
Closet full of guns, son, none'
Get off that bullshit, that hip hop faggotry
I'm highbred nigga worth five gravity
Clothes never raggedy, oil painting of me displayed up in gallery
Capture me, Wu Tang forever, immortality
High salary, blessing from a mother named Valery
And my two sons named Anthony
Racks from stacks, quickly I'm browsing
First class ticket to the moon only cost 50 000
Niggas be doubting, it's understood, I'm running with goons
One of a kind, imported goods, killer the hood
Consume me, Lord, the last time I checked got 50 points in your voice
Good Lord