briggs - golden era remix [dt3 remix] lyrics
[intro: briggs]
woo, put in work
again and again
check
[verse 1: briggs]
i been getting mine ‘fore i signed my name upon the dotted line
i bodied anybody who bothered to wanna try
you’re running on borrowed time, i’m gunnin’, i’m on sight
now my record on your forehead, so i know what’s on your mind
from the pessimist nemesis, hate everyone’s guts
on our worst day never get the better of us
your whole squad’s festivus, you worship the pole
it’s gotta be told, you thinking about kicking up dust
or making a fuss? t–th, you be picking ’em up
—t–th, you be picking ’em up
[verse 2: trials]
we bring the riot police up into your quiet street (h-llo!) i’m on the run
from getting done with all the p-rn that gets a warning from your isp
i’m donkey kong in this octagon
my belly-flop will leave a crater big enough to launch a rocket from
i made a home inside a giant’s head
before i went to sleep i hung an lcd inside a spider web
(i’m stupid) getting on your nerves, puffing herb
in a cinema dumber than low-cut shirts around silicone
[verse 3: vents]
desperado, s-x, money, drugs, diablo
hooked on the rush, still stuck on the marlboro
foot’s on the clutch, get the f-ck in the car, bro
who could you trust when you stuck in the dark, though
i trust no woman but the one who raised me
i follow no man but the one who made me
i got no plan but the one god gave me
’cause most of my friends is dead or gone crazy
[verse 4: hons]
gimme the keys to your city, i’ma drive it like i stole it
as long as the era stay golden, i’ma hold it
forever, together, us is g.e
when push come to shove we always plus ev
so pump these beats every time we drop our product
if i’m behind the eight-ball then i’ma sink it corner pocket
jaw-droppin’ verses when the ‘oars rush and burst in
worst in, best dressed, never said we perfect
(never said we perfect, never said we perfect)
[verse 5: sesta]
just penned a manifesto, it said that i’m the best, yo
was in another language, so read it, but no comprendo
flip the coin, friendo, you ’bout to meet your end, though
i’m feeling pretty good, so shoot him down at the tempo
get your pop songs, and you can pop off
and make way for the next hollow pop god
where i’m from is locked off to fakes and
corny shameless frauds can’t shake it off
[verse 6: suffa]
for the crew in the front, to the few in the back, alright
spit off a golden gun like chewing tobacco, right
who you know that go hard as the hoods, brah?
aren’t too many close, with no heart or no chutzpah, uh
who put the pound next door to the butcher?
you’re so low you could drown in a foot-spa
try to find two that could even come close to tha
crew’s like playing “guess who” with prosopagnosia
[verse 7: k21]
taking jewels like a grave robber to make a day stopper
f-ck it up and run amok, everything i say is proper foul
wait, stop me now raining on the sound
and make tall poppies turn all sloppy, kale chop ’em down
for every lackl-stre wack f-ck can’t match us
let ’em act tough and leave ’em looking silly like they didn’t know the back us
golden george foreman gums, you see them, turn and run
team messed up when suffa slamming drums, and it’s an anthem
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