Who Got My Back? Songtext
von Trends of Culture
Who Got My Back? Songtext
You look my all, but you jaw folks be forward
We from the same zone, but you wanna cause war
Then Bad Mentalz mold to make match things upon this mission
So I drink the booze, so I block out all restriction
Now I am prepared for these hazardous conditions
So brothers will be scared, but in my past, there′s no pissin'
Genoese, I′m feelin' this, I'm illin′ this, forever
Forever, just out as long as these niggas ain′t never pull my lever
Figurin', rush triggerin′ this nigga and, conditionin' of the mental slang
You become legendary for the men you bury
So I work with this, I just be merciless just like a mercy man Just comin′ with a spark, perpetrated heart, damn if he do
(Trends though he the rule)
But let's begin to ruffle, Trends setter huddle
No way that my neck′ll buckle in the scuffle, yo let's shuffle
Let's hook to the dome of a cut, yo, what′s up
Swagger as you stagger, I bust you like a neck flexed out
And watch the wreck come trickle in
Adrenaline, come any men, cause it′s my temple that you ticklin'
Mad rows, bad blows surfin′ through the shadows
That can't go, the test stress of your chest, your back blows
This cover, this mother, this and another, because your back wasn′t covered
Me, nothin' I hate more than a fake and phony ass nigga
In my square, prepare for the nation, if I slam, like my culture
Old jet style and get bit by the vulture
Scavenger, take anyone on the calendar
In the back, you can be the champ, I′ll be challenger
From the underground, understand, I'm the underdog
That one and all, some hungrier than ya'll
Water down bastard, style′s not long from the casket
36 Chambers of death, kid, to let it
Now they goin′, oh hey, except it
Come here with the childish shit, you get molested
I got the anger of a slave man
Usin' my change to bring pain, to the cave man
Dig it, it′s the, I ain't got no love for the nigga on the trigga
With my name on a slug, now ask yourself
Who got my back, who got my back? (Naught got your back)
Who got my back, who got my back? (Ill Town got your back)
Who got my back, who got my back? (North Carolina got your back)
Who got my back, who got my back? (Virginia got your back)
Blaow, cli-clao, cli-clao, how you like me now
Blaow, cli-clao, cli-clao, guard your lips, funk that
Who see my back, who be my back, who rockin′ that?
Who got my back, like that, a gat
Looks like a pump, feels like a sneaker
Even deeper a reaper ain't scared of a weaker creeper either
It ain′t no mystery, you played your history like a hoochie
Now we see where Miss Goldberg is a Whoopie
White face, black paint, didn't get me dancin'
White men can′t jump, and I bet you ten can′t dance, son
Fuck what you heard, just act like you listen
Any mission caught dissin', listen, I′m pissin' on your system
Then I′m playin' Mr. Split You, with your sister
Fuck stick and move, bitch I′m slick, I stick and blister
Then I sliver through your liver, quiver, shake an earthquake
The style shaker, that make you wet the faker
To tell 'em I'm yellin′, cause I′m strapped, I'm mad at the world
Drinkin′ earl, heard shots, who got my back
A mastermind takes dimes to create
And if you're not experienced, you best contend with your own weak class
Word to my granny′s ass, my range is strange
Enter, box ripper, to the center
Here I am, so what, this nigga's style is what
I throw a brick from the lip, when I′m in the cut
Always representin', cause the men, done white
Hittin' the uptown slick nigga, shit through the night
Cause I hate when other niggas list it, check this, kissed it
Never had to diss it, call me swinger man
I maintain my rap, get my dap and I step through the rubble
Lookin′ for trouble, muthafuckas here it is, grown in your biz
I put your all in here, I′m sayin' flows for days
Where the big boys be playin′
Mad styles from mad files, see, Trend-men
Wreck shit from miles and mile and miles
I dedicate my skill to the sewers
I dedicate my skill to those who walk through the manure
Forgot a, whose in the butter, here we are
Call us Trend-men, we come and make muthafuckin' masada
Who got my back in the mist of the mayhem
When I attack ′em, Brother Nast' out to slay ′em
Yeah, word up, peace out the gutter
Who dat? D-Ski, Lord Champ, Trends State, Riker's Island
All will, North County
(Wow, Meth Tical, power cypher got my back
The whole Shaolin Island got my back
Yeah, even Long Island got my back, and I'm out)
{Word up, word up, Brother Nast′, Uptown
Represent niggas, in Brooklyn, in Bronx, all ya′ll niggas
Get live with us, Trends of Culture, who got my back?
We from the same zone, but you wanna cause war
Then Bad Mentalz mold to make match things upon this mission
So I drink the booze, so I block out all restriction
Now I am prepared for these hazardous conditions
So brothers will be scared, but in my past, there′s no pissin'
Genoese, I′m feelin' this, I'm illin′ this, forever
Forever, just out as long as these niggas ain′t never pull my lever
Figurin', rush triggerin′ this nigga and, conditionin' of the mental slang
You become legendary for the men you bury
So I work with this, I just be merciless just like a mercy man Just comin′ with a spark, perpetrated heart, damn if he do
(Trends though he the rule)
But let's begin to ruffle, Trends setter huddle
No way that my neck′ll buckle in the scuffle, yo let's shuffle
Let's hook to the dome of a cut, yo, what′s up
Swagger as you stagger, I bust you like a neck flexed out
And watch the wreck come trickle in
Adrenaline, come any men, cause it′s my temple that you ticklin'
Mad rows, bad blows surfin′ through the shadows
That can't go, the test stress of your chest, your back blows
This cover, this mother, this and another, because your back wasn′t covered
Me, nothin' I hate more than a fake and phony ass nigga
In my square, prepare for the nation, if I slam, like my culture
Old jet style and get bit by the vulture
Scavenger, take anyone on the calendar
In the back, you can be the champ, I′ll be challenger
From the underground, understand, I'm the underdog
That one and all, some hungrier than ya'll
Water down bastard, style′s not long from the casket
36 Chambers of death, kid, to let it
Now they goin′, oh hey, except it
Come here with the childish shit, you get molested
I got the anger of a slave man
Usin' my change to bring pain, to the cave man
Dig it, it′s the, I ain't got no love for the nigga on the trigga
With my name on a slug, now ask yourself
Who got my back, who got my back? (Naught got your back)
Who got my back, who got my back? (Ill Town got your back)
Who got my back, who got my back? (North Carolina got your back)
Who got my back, who got my back? (Virginia got your back)
Blaow, cli-clao, cli-clao, how you like me now
Blaow, cli-clao, cli-clao, guard your lips, funk that
Who see my back, who be my back, who rockin′ that?
Who got my back, like that, a gat
Looks like a pump, feels like a sneaker
Even deeper a reaper ain't scared of a weaker creeper either
It ain′t no mystery, you played your history like a hoochie
Now we see where Miss Goldberg is a Whoopie
White face, black paint, didn't get me dancin'
White men can′t jump, and I bet you ten can′t dance, son
Fuck what you heard, just act like you listen
Any mission caught dissin', listen, I′m pissin' on your system
Then I′m playin' Mr. Split You, with your sister
Fuck stick and move, bitch I′m slick, I stick and blister
Then I sliver through your liver, quiver, shake an earthquake
The style shaker, that make you wet the faker
To tell 'em I'm yellin′, cause I′m strapped, I'm mad at the world
Drinkin′ earl, heard shots, who got my back
A mastermind takes dimes to create
And if you're not experienced, you best contend with your own weak class
Word to my granny′s ass, my range is strange
Enter, box ripper, to the center
Here I am, so what, this nigga's style is what
I throw a brick from the lip, when I′m in the cut
Always representin', cause the men, done white
Hittin' the uptown slick nigga, shit through the night
Cause I hate when other niggas list it, check this, kissed it
Never had to diss it, call me swinger man
I maintain my rap, get my dap and I step through the rubble
Lookin′ for trouble, muthafuckas here it is, grown in your biz
I put your all in here, I′m sayin' flows for days
Where the big boys be playin′
Mad styles from mad files, see, Trend-men
Wreck shit from miles and mile and miles
I dedicate my skill to the sewers
I dedicate my skill to those who walk through the manure
Forgot a, whose in the butter, here we are
Call us Trend-men, we come and make muthafuckin' masada
Who got my back in the mist of the mayhem
When I attack ′em, Brother Nast' out to slay ′em
Yeah, word up, peace out the gutter
Who dat? D-Ski, Lord Champ, Trends State, Riker's Island
All will, North County
(Wow, Meth Tical, power cypher got my back
The whole Shaolin Island got my back
Yeah, even Long Island got my back, and I'm out)
{Word up, word up, Brother Nast′, Uptown
Represent niggas, in Brooklyn, in Bronx, all ya′ll niggas
Get live with us, Trends of Culture, who got my back?
Writer(s): Al Perry, Edward Fordham Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
