pro era - resurrection of real lyrics
[intro: a la $ole]
yo, i don’t give a f-ck!
mic checka, the smith & wesson
[verse 1: a la $ole]
resurrected the borough who been the most respected
protect your neck or get pro techs, at your necklace
relentless k!llers for 5 dollar billas with nine 9s
double the rhymes when i spit it like dos times
mira mami my flow shine, you co-sign, i throw lines
for the 4th time like cuatro, head hancho
the glocc let them things go, cl!ck clack bang! marlon pop’s flow
cookin up cheese that’s not yours
one bad gaucho, i got chose
i got hoes that go down low like potholes for pot gold
my pockets hold more sh-t, if you want beef, no sloppy joes
i been drop bombs since snot nose
you n-ggas can’t f-ck with the unf-ckable
been styling since 9-4, my flow been put in, on my huxtable
you can’t touch the untouchable demolition destructional
better listen for the instructional
we cause havoc when we mobb deep
spark trees forest fires, messiah from the dark streets
no harm g, where armories get aimed at your arteries
for broader cheese n-ggas playing with the lottery
or commit grand larceny, pardon me, accordally
ain’t no one spittin as hard as we
at the top is where i ought to be
prophet for knowledge the way i’m partin seas
honestly i’m just getting started g no keys, i open doors
kick em down wearing fours
cause the 4-5 is in line with your pores, no sweat
i’m just a pro ya know
brooklyn the jungle so hoes depose their clothes
so the sole ain’t better than you is? no chizz
just stand back while i state my top goal
your chicks top goes when she drops jaws, for the low she get low
i suppose she down to go, you know
it’s the gawd, i be k!llin em with the flow
been a rebel you n-ggas pebbles to my mountain top
i guess i rock, you’ll get two packs with these two hot shots
rip leave you buried in 2pac’s spot, n-gga
[verse 2: nyck caution]
when i rap it’s like i’m blowing through a crack pipe
flowing on this half pipe
dope, like why the f-ck you ask twice?
what the f-ck is yolo?
probably been a pharoah in my past life
eighteen so this dynasty gon sound right
drop a song think it sounded nice
all of you just sound alike
yeah while i f-ckin steer a mountain bike
i’m so everest, you ain’t got no merits
just f-ckin caution, american legend til they bury him
born as a winner, when it storm in the winter
keep it calm and consider, we harmin your liver
if you drip, blimps up, sips from my pimp cup
this is what we living, sh-t you finally get a glimpse of
motherf-cker, i ain’t scared of no man
i got that weight like roseanne, keep these b-tches focused
yeah you know i puff the tree, so my throat is swollen
i dont need a motive, i just keep on rolling
until it’s flat and the tire pop, freezin in the fire box
over weight ladies they screaming when the choir starts
everybody got the dreams that requires art, and expires hearts
so will you take the deal, d-mn
the flow is real like my birth rights
saying that i’ve been cursed twice
blessed with absurd flight
thinking i’m a threat, you heard right
never got em first but i earn stripes
and i learned how to reep em, delete em, and impeach a legion of losers
and start a cause for the lost, believe in the truest like ya’ll
you see i’m flowin, twistin like a back flip
rippin through these chap lips
i’ve been spittin crack since
so keep it real in a hunnid
when you chill at the top then you feel it is plummit
motherf-cker that spot for me
in the jungle too hot to breathe, you will not proceed
so you better stay cautionary, you lost already
no chorus just corpes plenty
porridge empty illness what you feel
redirect and chill while we ressurrect what’s real, caution
[outro: nyck caution]
motherf-cking nyck caution, tell the b-tches get off him
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