moving on up - evidence lyrics
[verse 1: evidence]
i wrote this on an amsterdam c*n*l
i rode a wave and left the ocean dry without a towel
ghetto b*st*rd
ain’t no father to this style
father figure
fight the devil
like the golden child
they told me, “ev, you gonna smell your roses”
i told them, “we don’t smell the flowers, we just hold our noses”
walking freely
i don’t go where i’m supposed ta
i got my friends
got my enemies
but foes are closer
no energy no maintenance
some are in between
i call those ones acquaintances
in life there’s some things you can’t get over quietly
making sh*t that’s notable
but not for notoriety
my hunger never left
my ribs are touching my chest
i’m at my best
dictionary definition of fresh
a picture of e
place in pole position is me
hit the throttle then decide where i’m intended to be
so what the f*ck
[chorus: evidence]
ayo we moving on up
another day another buck
it never stops
so i never stop chasing my dream
as the world keep turning
only say what i mean
[verse 2: evidence]
i wrote this on the first thing i could find to write it
on an envelope
i never opened up inside it
i’m a writer so my hand is guided
i don’t fight it
attract the company that i invited
it’s from a higher source
and i of course
am enlightened
bringing all the thunder and the lightning
wondering about the moves i made and all the shade i curved
it’s like they don’t react to actions
they relate to words
learned my patterns and my habits
made adjustments
just enough so i can say i trust them
i’m a drummer so i make percussion
never hurry
so i’m never rushing
except my blood
different discussion
always into something
no stopping when i’m emptying
and always into something
like dr dre and mc ren
never at the function
they know just where i’m going to
an open book
i’d like to tell you what i’m going through
[chorus: evidence]
ayo we moving on up
another day another buck
it never stops
so i never stop chasing my dream
as the world keep turning
always say what i mean
[verse 3: conway the machine]
look, i wrote this in my bas*m*nt, smokin’, facin’
drinking this henny straight, i don’t do chasers
in many states i still got open cases
in any case, have your sh*t straight when you approach a gangster
we broke in places, pistol*whip lyor with broken faces
t**th f*cked up, you gonna need braces
probably a few missing, there’s gonna be sp*ces
i go to places where you need your toast and drove a sp*ceship
your flow is basic, think you’re f*cking with me, you smokin’, basin
i’ve been low on patience with these rappers, yeah, i’ve grown impatient
the pole is blazin’, i slide on n*ggas like stolen bases
god blessed me with opportunity, they hope i waste it
i don’t know why n*ggas be so focused on hopeless hatin’
n*ggas ain’t even relevant, me and evidence, most prevalent
the flow is heaven sent, it’s evident
the most benevolent, rocking my fashion rebel lettermen
got duct tape and rope in the same trunk i keep a shovel in
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