chill moody - rfmintro lyrics
[breathing]
[verse one]
’bout time they admit that this city’s mine
murder tracks take the rap, p.diddy – shyne
far from c-cky play it smoother than jimmy bond
double o life these dudes ain’t got no nikes
they checkless, wreckless, rhyme till i’m breathless
challenge em and blow ya candles out
thats your death wish
pancake, couple beats, emcees who think it’s sweet
thats the check list when they ask “what’s for breakfast?”
hate it or love it, but learn to respect it
either do a bid or do it big like a texan
move methodical i swear that i could teach em lessons
them forty-eight laws internalized in my methods, check it!
philly’s in the pocket, not it’s time to switch it up
see enough is not a feast dog, it’s just enough
i want it all though, i ain’t selfish understand my family matters, even look out for waldo
they been searching for a sound like this
“he from philly how he sound like this?”
thats cause they sound like sh-t
them pounds they grip and rounds they spit
i’m cut from a different cloth the underground my flip, if i switched
chill still keep it iller than most
chopped it up with mad legends, swear the illest was mos and i quote:
“moody, don’t become a slave to this music, the deadliest weapon could be your brain if you used it … properly”
man i swear them words got to me. gems from the old heads it really means a lot to me
see i’m trying build, so my prophecy’s monopoly
what they spits a mockery it’s not hip-hop to me
focused on the beef? well my binocs is on the broccoli
eyes on the green if you ain’t see what i mean
you see what i mean is what i say, say what they don’t want to say
weak mc’s get eaten up, invite em in, one a day
just some random lines from my book of rhymes
so intricate how it came together it took some time
now your watch is missing. educated rapper that make your block listen clocks ticking like a botched mission
the wire tripped this whole sh-t is set to blow up
the dj show me love, i feel like nino when i show up, hold up
regain my breath, never waste a step, this game is rigged i’m placing bets with the replacement refs
no destination met, so they feel he weak
man they don’t know about them detours in these philly streets
them cold nights on the bus-stops you have to stand
packed venues but them fans is half your fam
stuck in a traffic jam, feeling like half a man, living in my pops bas-m-nt
and every time i climb them stairs he stares and ask me if i have a plan
so to see this come together he’s a happy man
philly’s mine time to make moms proud of me
for years this city tried dodging me, like the gallery
like “chill can’t spit” i wish i would have known first
before i put a dollar sign to what these words worth
words hurt, sticks and stones could break bones
they wasn’t f-cking with the kid now they all a bunch of perverts
motivate, cause i innovate
never reiterate, any of these lines that my pen a state
eyes on a penn estate, philly till the death of me
land of one way streets, just worrying bout what’s left of me
the recipe is to give them all that is left of me, a lyricist, nothing less than you’d expect of me
effortlessly, treat it like a layup
the god told me “smell each rose on my way up”
i’m on my way up. have my spot ready
let that ride out joe
[music]
[breathing]
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