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control response - chamanja lyrics

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(i wrote this, but i can’t rap at all. i’d love for someone to rap this over the big sean’s ‘control’ beat. you can do it for free and i wouldn’t mind if you changed it a little. would just like to hear it done by someone. anyway, i hope you enjoy. p.s. this bracket is not part of the rap)

i’m catching you n-ggas up like it was a police chase
i’m the green giant, the most defiant start like lower case
i’m on top of you n-ggas like your just pictures i needed to trace
you’re a disgrace
like throwing your fastest frisbee to first place
incase you didn’t know i leave you n-ggas in debt
i’m the f-cking bank of rap so hand me your f-cking payment checks
i’m catching all you n-ggas up like “i need a bigger net”
and i smoke so much weed like “i need a bigger net”
uh

grab your hard hats and safety jackets
i’m coming through to pack you n-ggas inside of your f-cking caskets
i steal lyrics from shipments of old cryptics, i cracked it
i walked the road, i didn’t pave the way for you n-ggas i plaqued it
i’m meaner than an army of hurled bricks
light showers predicted
lets see who gets inflicted
you can’t over take me, this murder scene is restricted
i’m the root of all evil, call me two five point eight 0 six, yes

hotter then flannery and blaine s-x tape
hard on your ears like a 3rd grade violin scr-pe
i dont drop bombs i throw them out the planes fire escape
look in the sky, stick your tongue out kids, see how the rain tastes
p-ss me the mic let me k!ll it n-gga
then p-ss me the pot, let me sk!ll it n-gga
must be a spot for the illest n-gga
if there is let me fill it n-gga
you think your flow clean? let me k!ll and then distill it n-gga!

hey mom, look what i just got
it’s a home-made chemistry set i bought from a guy in the parking lot
filled with beakers, bongs and needle eyes
hoping to die high next to bill nye the science guy
huh, give me a fact about an element
i know that gold is something you can find in my settlements
i rap with better words so i’m different for my elegance
and i spit mad flows like i’m bathing with some elephants

you raised the bar high? now watch it shrink
i raised the bar higher like god himself needed a drink
or a trapeze artist who doesn’t give a f-ck if he sinks
or i made the font bigger so there’s more when i print

i raised it like i was broke and i’m giving my kid some hope for a better life then smoking and shooting cocaine with his friends
with workin’ at unpopular brands and serenade bands
any f-cking job, i’ll give you a hand with your lemonade stand

for some money to provide him with food and finer things
for a better life, with a car, house and an expensive wedding ring
because right now right now the only the thing he is used to receiving is hand-me-down clothes and the regular schoolyard beatings
with screeching and preachings from hateful mobs of kids better off
teaching him being poor isn’t something he should be proud of
he comes home crying, i say “be calm, i’ve got a couple small jobs”
“working 2 string jobs? we can even afford shoe strings mom!”

he puts his head on my chest, sighs and cries from being depressed
he wants to run away and leave all his demons at rest
i tell him for the rest of my life i’m going to try my best with my life, invest all my time in making sure he never feels oppressed
i’mma get a job job and work hard that even my boss is impressed
make sure you get better meals and appear well dressed
and i confess that it won’t be as easy as i say, but making a brighter future is how rap is meant to be raised, n-gga
i should be praised n-gga

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