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t.r@bb - norf of july lyrics

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[intro]x4
let’s get it popping

[verse 1: t.r@bb]
it’s that n-gga with the half-moon caesar
lungs hold ether
ball player stroll, dope dealer features
flood the ave with coal, fifty on my beeper
y’all souls [?], now dance with the reaper
i’m on the block live with the spirit of a god body
performing the miracles that got god bodied
like the waves of my sweater, the hood is behind me
all my bars lined up, undefeated should sign me
that five strike
and his shine could go lightning
lines riker’s, pedal dope like ten bikers
incite riots, high time and we northsidin’
you bar bitin’, you light writin’, and wave ridin’

[bridge]
fall back, ‘fore i get it popping
fall back, ‘fore i get it popping
fall back, ‘fore i get it popping
fall back, ‘fore i get it popping
i get it popping like the fourth in harlem
i get it popping like the fourth in harlem

[verse 2: g.reed]
watching for the pigs while i’m eating chuleta
my toes independent, yes i’m rocking chancletas
me no speak it, but i show you how the fire work
got the god [?], for your roman candle fire work
let shots go like, rahh rahh rahh
while we celebrate like, la la la
poppa
i turn lennox into shottas
make yo block hotter than the bottom of nevada
pr day parades are much to us
i throw bows in that b-tch get a month of us
my bread for lunch, you the crust to us
so i will let it burn like usher does
wow, i gets wild with my style
my flows around the kingdom like i’m built around the nile
work crack rock like i’m laying down the towel
then i shake my shoulders, real harlem style

[verse 3: t.r@bb]
look at these slouch n-ggas
thinking sh-t is sweet all on the couch rolling sour
they might as well be sleep
i’m outside with that louder
clip in my hand to give an l to these cowards
that just don’t understand
i lost my mind when a n-gga disrespected
now i’m blacking out [?] peep the method
bout to kick that door, waving them things in a second
he gone need a suit, a doctor, and the reverend
n-gga i get it popping

[beat change]

[verse 4: t.r@bb]
everything i say cook, like work in the pot
you know my art be over head like michelangelo painting
and me and yo broad so in tune, she could finish my sentences
in the booth with the crew, freestyling, playing, and laying sh-t
rabb went hollywood, how? oh all them trips to la and sh-t
i’m just trying to maintain, bang

[hook 2]x4
as i sw-ng in the turning lane
watch me sw-ng in the turning lane



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