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{"id":47684,"created_at":"2018-12-10 14:10:18","updated_at":"2021-04-23 11:22:05","deleted_at":null,"published_at":"2018-12-10 14:10:18","original_id":null,"artist_id":30382,"title":"Real Raps (Prod. STS on the Beat)","slug":"real-raps-prod-sts-on-the-beat","status":"published","description":null,"album_id":null,"streets":1,"source_type":"s3","source":"file","lyrics":"Let's take it back to the real raps.\r\nfitted cap in the back of a Maybach.\r\nRunning laps on a track, where's Wayde at?\r\nAll these other n***as Cinemax, they ain't made jack.\r\nPenitentiary chances, they evade taxes on the mother f***ing Alpha, Don.\r\nWhatever you call it it's only part of the problem.\r\nI got 'em, I caught 'em.\r\nI mean, the copy cat styles they're on is on fleek.\r\nBut what a pity, y'all don't hear me.\r\nY'all clearly p***y n****s, don't speak.\r\nOriginal. Get the gun barrel.\r\nI don't really care if you go against me.\r\nGet dropped 6 below.\r\nI'm wit your h*e.\r\nAbove my d**k mistletoe.\r\nI switched the flow.\r\nThese n****s looking miserable.\r\nI guess they know your boy got hits to go.\r\nEy, lets's take it back to the real raps.\r\nGin and juice, shot gun in a Cadillac.\r\nStrapped with some indoor packed fat in a pipe.\r\nWe relaxed, but my kinfolk get wild for the night.\r\nJust wow when I write.\r\nThe vowels I recite speeded up 'cause these n****s want a sound they can bite.\r\nThey hungry.\r\nI hear the tummy growls, like a lioness.\r\nI ain't stressed.\r\nAin't nobody f***ing with a Lochness.\r\nSwag from the top.\r\nJet lagged.\r\nYou cannot get mad 'cause your squad ain't s**t, but a hot mess.\r\nPlans for the top double back 'till they drop.\r\nSee, it had to come out.\r\nMother f***ers ain't a contest.\r\nBeen on for too long.\r\nYour b**ch want this foot long.\r\nShe hooked on the D and I ain't even started.\r\nSuit up, my suit on.\r\nBuy mamma a new home.\r\nI'm renaming Hip-Hop to dearly departed.\r\nPlacing your bets in the favorite, you called it.\r\nBut none of these rappers go down like they're carded.\r\nThey're looking quite green on their way to the start.\r\nFar from beginners, but sick to their stomach.\r\n'Cause young n****s got the crown.\r\nShout out to Migos for holding it down.\r\nAddicted to dabbing from hitting that loud.\r\nMy dealer got me getting geeked by the pound.\r\nYeah, I'ma take it back to the real raps.\r\nBlack Noise. Esco, with the Illmatic.\r\nI got the manifesto and I'm still at it.\r\nA Mother City kid, b**ch. Way above average.\r\nTime for some action.\r\nRing the alarm, there's a bomb on the track.\r\nLike a n***a sold 'caine, got the cops on my back.\r\n'Cause they know I'm dealing weight on a mixtape, fam.\r\nFrom that...\r\nCPT\r\nEverybody wanna know a n***a like me.\r\nCPT\r\nEverybody wanna know a n***a like me.\r\nI'm from that...\r\nCPT\r\nEverybody wanna know a n***a like me.\r\nCPT\r\nEverybody wanna know a n***a like me.\r\nYip.","download_count":190,"play_count":2,"restrict_download":0,"generated_thumbnail":null,"flag_count":0,"download_count_24":1,"download_count_24_at":"2021-04-23","reupload_sent":0,"thumb_path":"https:\/\/s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com\/sol-assets\/uploads\/public\/5c0\/e53\/447\/thumb_149018_300_300_0_0_crop.jpg","status_reason":null,"status_reason_alt":null,"tags":[]}

Song Lyrics:

Let's take it back to the real raps. fitted cap in the back of a Maybach. Running laps on a track, where's Wayde at? All these other n***as Cinemax, they ain't made jack. Penitentiary chances, they evade taxes on the mother f***ing Alpha, Don. Whatever you call it it's only part of the problem. I got 'em, I caught 'em. I mean, the copy cat styles they're on is on fleek. But what a pity, y'all don't hear me. Y'all clearly p***y n****s, don't speak. Original. Get the gun barrel. I don't really care if you go against me. Get dropped 6 below. I'm wit your h*e. Above my d**k mistletoe. I switched the flow. These n****s looking miserable. I guess they know your boy got hits to go. Ey, lets's take it back to the real raps. Gin and juice, shot gun in a Cadillac. Strapped with some indoor packed fat in a pipe. We relaxed, but my kinfolk get wild for the night. Just wow when I write. The vowels I recite speeded up 'cause these n****s want a sound they can bite. They hungry. I hear the tummy growls, like a lioness. I ain't stressed. Ain't nobody f***ing with a Lochness. Swag from the top. Jet lagged. You cannot get mad 'cause your squad ain't s**t, but a hot mess. Plans for the top double back 'till they drop. See, it had to come out. Mother f***ers ain't a contest. Been on for too long. Your b**ch want this foot long. She hooked on the D and I ain't even started. Suit up, my suit on. Buy mamma a new home. I'm renaming Hip-Hop to dearly departed. Placing your bets in the favorite, you called it. But none of these rappers go down like they're carded. They're looking quite green on their way to the start. Far from beginners, but sick to their stomach. 'Cause young n****s got the crown. Shout out to Migos for holding it down. Addicted to dabbing from hitting that loud. My dealer got me getting geeked by the pound. Yeah, I'ma take it back to the real raps. Black Noise. Esco, with the Illmatic. I got the manifesto and I'm still at it. A Mother City kid, b**ch. Way above average. Time for some action. Ring the alarm, there's a bomb on the track. Like a n***a sold 'caine, got the cops on my back. 'Cause they know I'm dealing weight on a mixtape, fam. From that... CPT Everybody wanna know a n***a like me. CPT Everybody wanna know a n***a like me. I'm from that... CPT Everybody wanna know a n***a like me. CPT Everybody wanna know a n***a like me. Yip.

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