Текстове на песни: Tech N9ne. Yada, Yada, Yada.

[Verse 1]


Just think, what if I could just, just blink this shit away.

Niggas think, because a nigga bust, I got grips and grips of pay.


The pain grows in fame and kangols with change

And strange hos who bang in range roves for thangs,

Same shows with lames the rain woes will stain insane

Foes who drain and hang bros with brains


If you caught it that means you got it, and if you brought it,

That means you should've shot it cause I'm about ta, drop

The real ya need a lot to kill a leader, prop the

nina nigga or pop the milli meter


Demarco I'm bout to spark flow your bark so harsh

But parts gon make you heart blow, blood

And don't be wassin' me cuzzin' me buggin me bout dubs

I'll be mud till these clubs really lovin me


It hurts my nigga to hurt my nigga but hurt

My nigga is what's inspiring these spurts my nigga

At first my nigga, used to be my homey, used to

Be my ace, yellin' you gon slap the taste out my mouth


Nigga I never scare sebwafares everywhere,

If you need me believe me its easy, to put holes in

Shakra teasy watch the wezzy he's lots of talk

4 sheezy


[Chorus]

Some say I should worry and watch where I walk (yeah)

Yada, yada, yada

Nigga that's just talk

I'm a friend, if I was a foe I would be knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, knockin at yo front door

[Repeat 2x]


[Verse 2]


The industries faulty industry salty (man)

The industry cost me industry brought me (pain)

The industry taught me industry caught me (strange)

And you niggas know that the industries awfully (bane)


I ain't a snake nigga all I did is make niggas

Money was sunny now it's funny you playa hate

Niggas, over some cake the fate of a show me state

Nigga in my face will be Don Juan the great 2 late nigga.


I don't speak a lot I peep a lot I creep a lot

And people who speak are usually weak and out 4

Peace and no beef a lot remember we used

2 kick it like bros now you niggas act

like bitches and hos


Wit your licorice souls,

Tecca9 I got the wickedest flows

No kid in his mold on misery

Never will get wit this rogue, I'm pissed

At his whole little fisad of crip that is sold

Instead of a rap I should've twisted his nose


Who kept short nitty from killin you me, who

Kept Dyamund from drillin' you me

Who kept villain niggas from vill dealin' you me,

So now you can take away me and keep on talking

Crazy and Imma let em know where you

Keep yo baby and where you stay D.


[Chorus]

[Repeat 2x]


[3rd Verse]


You can't turn enough mutha fuckers against me

You can't find a harder rapper that'll convince me

I'm wit the Canty's the Ashby's the Whitebears

LeJeunes the Harrises and the mutha fuchkin Timley's


The Theorys the Byers the canadys you know the

Familys that are known to be bad 4 humanity

Can he be bad, can he be tough can he be

Rough no cream puffs are considered to be rough enough


Nobody likes you not even yo bitches imma

Witness they sick of yo disrespectful way of speaking

explicit always talking about how big yo dick is,

better hope Anghellic, go multi platinum to get your riches


Blood, this is the end of men who were once friends

And then, one asshole thought he was somithin when

Punks bend over they get fucked (get fucked) hand over

Them Tech tapes or get stuck (get stuck)


You must think I'm soft 4 talkin to Icy Roc

Bout knockin the nina out I'm trippin without

A doubt, Imma tell you who really is ya friends,

Vell Barkardi and maybe you and him can get

Together and tell it like it is again


Its over man, I hope you brought ya navacane

I know the pain, is slowly taking over brain.

So calm that mutha fuckin wombat I don't

Need no Don Juan tracks to come bomb on raps.


[Chorus]

[Repeat 2x]