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g.l.o.a.t / three6 - reggie rude lyrics

g.l.o.a.t

(intro – fame combs)
uh-huh! rude is back!
-what else rude?-
the boy is back!
-yo rude…you ready?-
-let em know!-
they watching your stories right?
talk to em
(“d-mn son where’d you find this?”)
he got that from fame…uh-huh it’s the “williams” in him
talk that sh-t

(verse)
god level over all things
god level over all things
i sprained my left wrist last night
trying to carry this whole game
i spent last summer trying to get right
now i’m back with the whole gang
reggie james with the finger roll
trying to eat my plate you get pita rolled
like i chase the bank cause i need the dough
yeah i poke shorty, i don’t need her though
she on me cause she like the tip
she want the smoke but i don’t need the dro
i was born with the melodies, i was born with the recipe
i don’t pay attention to the haters
i’m blessed, born just to heckle me
i never care what they questioning
as long as bars flare they estrogen
they get mad when i rip a verse
like look at reggie bout to flex again
wait
ain’t that the point of this?
what am i missing?
just cause ya ain’t the answer
doesn’t mean you can question it
like i dim my shine, i’d rather teach ya how to do better without hate again
we went wrong when we decided it’s easy to k!ll that’s the definite
yeah wait…definite….definite
had to repeat myself just in case my pulse weakened
or my ear drum was on some “i ain’t trying to hear that sh-t”
flo don’t wanna mix my hits
he say i’m way too specific
“where my adlib? switch it”
“where that 8 bars? flip it”
i think i’m way too timid
cause if i wasn’t they would hear me louder
syl johnson to the soul, they would hate me if i was blacker
skin dark so i’m trapped in
const-tutional trappings
they hate when i say i’m a god
so i’m a n-gga without asking
i’m a slave to the m-sses
i’m just trying to own my masters
the white devil want my -ss whipped
till i cross chests like catholics

(interlude)
the devil is a mother f-cking liar, so you know i ain’t worried biotch! stupid b-tch!

three6

(intro)
yeah, ay
play me some pimpin’ mane
yeah, uh

(chorus)
what you gonna do for the clout my n-gga
trying to put me down for the count my n-gga?
i already stay low, underground my n-gga
you can’t hang with the boy, i’ll get ya
(we ready!)
what you gonna do for the clout my n-gga
(we ready!)
trying to put me down for the count my n-gga?
(we ready!)
i already stay low, underground my n-gga
(we ready!)
so you can’t hang with the boy i’ll get ya
(we ready!)

(verse)
i might rock the house
i might steal the mood
i might peace you out
i might heat your crew
i might steal your chick
i might make her groove
i might take your plate
i might eat your food
its reggie the god, or its reggie rude
i make paper stack, i make chickens drool
ya bite on me, get it, i got flows to ride
i k!ll all you bugs with some pesticide
i might steal your ride
i might punch your eye
do everything in the alphabet from a to y
i got all the flows
it stay on the dro
sorry uncle snoop, but i love these hoes
and i love this paper
i love all my haters
i love all this clout
i just never chase it
23rd the crew
2 am the squad
the nation complete
one soul, under god

(outro)
the fact of the matter she blow out the frizzame
i keep me some powder so i’m gettin’ brizzain
the fact of the matter she blow out the frizzame
i keep me some powder so i’m gettin’ brizzain

(conscience outro)
clout? all these n-ggas want clout. they ain’t got the crew to back up though. we about 50 deep. look at these n-ggas in the corner still trying to test us…

- reggie rude lyrics

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