Now or Never Songtext
von Mesus
Now or Never Songtext
Bitch, what′s ya' point?
I get Bit, like I′m Coin
I get Chips, like A-Hoy
Tell a hater, eat a dick, attaboy
Miss me with the noise
It's now or never, I would bet a thousand of the hottest, Bill Cosby sweaters
You ain't got a shred of evidence, convincing anybody yo′ style′s better
I don't spit bars, I live bars, in the booth and in the gym, bitch
Think yo′ shit hard, 'til ya get scarred, thinkin′ you was cool, ding-ding, bitch
Let's lace ′em up, I'll ace 'em up, ′til ya′ face fucked, like ya' lady′s, huh
I don't even mean that your lady′s ugly, I'm sayin′, boy, about the way she sucked
Oh, damn, that's a low shot, my flow's grams, that′s pro shot
My program′s get more guap, my name's only gettin′ more hot
Is it Mee-sus, or May-zeus? 'Til, he dissed Cannon, no one fuckin′ knew him
So, he went and named his album, "Fuck You" and, "Fuck You Two," is comin', soon
Damnit, I just let the cat out the bag, and I′m packin' a MAC in the back of the act
And, I'm sad, ′cause I know about half of these rappers don′t know who Big Pun is, what happened to rap?
What happened to back? Back, as to back in the day when you work, you ain't gettin′ no traction
So, I'm bringin′ it back to when talent was actually what mattered, instead of the platform you have
Yeh-yeah, I on't fuck around, yeh-yeah, I on′t fuck with clowns
Yeh-yeah! Fuck around, find out it's sink or swim, when you fuckin' drown
Turn down, nope, I ain′t able, unless you′re talkin' about turnin′ down labels
'Bout, to turn over these turntables, like Jesus did in that there Bible
Bet, you looked at me, and thought that that is what I sound like
Aye, judgin′ books by covers, half a second sound bites
Aye, he didn't no colors made noises, he don′t sound white
Aye, I swear that's what most y'alls sound like
Gay!
They say, I can′t say that, I tell ′em, "Yes I can"
I tell 'em, "Fuck it, cross the line," Mexican!
But, you won′t catch me, how much you gon' bet me?
I kill what you write, even if I write lefty
Like, Lefty said in, Donnie Brasco, "Forget about it"
You Fugazi, won′t do shit about it
You walk in alive, but you comin' out dead
But, you run up on me, I′ma cut off your legs
Put these words on my life, every one that I said
'Cause, I spit every verse, like a gun in my hand
I get Bit, like I′m Coin
I get Chips, like A-Hoy
Tell a hater, eat a dick, attaboy
Miss me with the noise
It's now or never, I would bet a thousand of the hottest, Bill Cosby sweaters
You ain't got a shred of evidence, convincing anybody yo′ style′s better
I don't spit bars, I live bars, in the booth and in the gym, bitch
Think yo′ shit hard, 'til ya get scarred, thinkin′ you was cool, ding-ding, bitch
Let's lace ′em up, I'll ace 'em up, ′til ya′ face fucked, like ya' lady′s, huh
I don't even mean that your lady′s ugly, I'm sayin′, boy, about the way she sucked
Oh, damn, that's a low shot, my flow's grams, that′s pro shot
My program′s get more guap, my name's only gettin′ more hot
Is it Mee-sus, or May-zeus? 'Til, he dissed Cannon, no one fuckin′ knew him
So, he went and named his album, "Fuck You" and, "Fuck You Two," is comin', soon
Damnit, I just let the cat out the bag, and I′m packin' a MAC in the back of the act
And, I'm sad, ′cause I know about half of these rappers don′t know who Big Pun is, what happened to rap?
What happened to back? Back, as to back in the day when you work, you ain't gettin′ no traction
So, I'm bringin′ it back to when talent was actually what mattered, instead of the platform you have
Yeh-yeah, I on't fuck around, yeh-yeah, I on′t fuck with clowns
Yeh-yeah! Fuck around, find out it's sink or swim, when you fuckin' drown
Turn down, nope, I ain′t able, unless you′re talkin' about turnin′ down labels
'Bout, to turn over these turntables, like Jesus did in that there Bible
Bet, you looked at me, and thought that that is what I sound like
Aye, judgin′ books by covers, half a second sound bites
Aye, he didn't no colors made noises, he don′t sound white
Aye, I swear that's what most y'alls sound like
Gay!
They say, I can′t say that, I tell ′em, "Yes I can"
I tell 'em, "Fuck it, cross the line," Mexican!
But, you won′t catch me, how much you gon' bet me?
I kill what you write, even if I write lefty
Like, Lefty said in, Donnie Brasco, "Forget about it"
You Fugazi, won′t do shit about it
You walk in alive, but you comin' out dead
But, you run up on me, I′ma cut off your legs
Put these words on my life, every one that I said
'Cause, I spit every verse, like a gun in my hand
Writer(s): Huy Tran, Charles Cossetti Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
