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80 bars part 1 - sam lachow lyrics

[verse 1]
uh
i’m not a rapper, i just talk a lot of spit
and cheef cheaper in the beacon, i’m rollin’ wit’ b skeez
and the team strong, we love ’em and duck ’em and lead ’em on
i’m the teacher, here’s a lesson, read along snitches
i dropped a song snitches,where’s the compet-tion?
we get hyphy, mess around and make some wrong decisions
yeah we the ones to watch, could spend a whole day watchin’
i’m at the spot poking smot with the moor gang partners, na, na, na
say i’m the only one? girl, you can’t pretend
you’re a groupie, you messin’ with all my rapper friends
new trends but we never change
we stay the same, huckleberry say my name
what’s my mother lovin’ name?

[verse 2]
lachow, i’m making my city proud
got a pocket full of venom embedded in black denims
i fed ’em this crack, let ’em react to the fact that i’m
k!llin’ ’em, k!llin’ ’em, baby
i blamed it on the dumb green yoda, mix it with red jedi
hoppin’ the first flight, a united airline red eye
yes i rap in my corduroy pajamies
sammy huckleberry, gosh dammit
ha ha ha ha, ha

[verse 3]
don’t hurry, f-ck it, let’s burn a blunt
cut it, gut it, stuff it, hurry up
poppin’ a bottle and pour it in a funny cup
on the way to the bahamas in my polka dot pajamas
i’m the type to roll a l up while i’m watchin’ “the wire”
i’m the type to watch a million episodes ’til i’m tired
i’m the type to put some pb and jelly up in my belly
i could be a jimmy stewart if you were more like grace kelly, sammy
slachow, stubble chin, bushy brow
i’m done wit’ p-ssy, i’ma push it in your tushy now
this eye racket got the game going wacky
like dang, i’m gettin’ dorito stains on my khakis

[verse 4]
in the back of the whip with the town fan
knocking the jams out ya momma’s sedan, d-mn
i remember when this sh-t played
i swear this song brings me back to seattle in fifth grade, i was
punkin’ bullies and getting saved by the bell
crushin’ on sally may and mich-lle
went from lunchable snacks, milk box in my knapsack
graffiti sprayed hoodies, one strap on my backpack
i’m getting a lil’ tired of your broken promises, vic
looking at your pages, seein’ different numbers and sh-t
now you’re getting mad ’cause i don’t wanna cuddle and sh-t
i mess with other chicks, at least i’m usin’ rubbers and sh-t
marijuana leaves on the socks i rock now
lock’m out every single door, and they knock now
get knocked down, get back up
lets wrap it up, slow the beat down so i can spit it fast on these schmucks

[verse 5]
whoa, take it real slow
got a little, want a little more, but i don’t sell, yo
i’ll tell you what i’m gettin’ it for, buddy, run up on a motherf-cker, motherf-ckin’ f-ck ’em up
we can all live happily, i got a bag wit’ me, open half of these
p-ss the purple baby, bubba, p-ss to me ‘fore i p-ss the beat back to master p
’cause my cash long and your cash hurt
my gl-ss bong got a gl-ss perk
i fast forward, leave your back in reverse
i would try a little harder but my back hurt, huh
back problems in my family genes
that isn’t relevant, but i just thought i’d explain
my momma always told me eat up all of your greens
i started crack rock rap, better all of these fiends

[verse 6]
so i tore up the rules, lachow
i popped molly before it was cool, lachow
i showed up to the cl-ss in shecks
i never rocked jordans, my parents couldn’t afford ’em
lot of girls i used to look at would never look back at me
now they plottin’ wit’ their girlfriends, trying to get back at me
i f-cked ’em over, i f-ckin’ told ’em it’s f-ckin’ over
now she sloppy drunk and i’m f-ckin’ sober, you think i’m jokin’ baby?
you think you’re breakin’ my heart, but do i look broken baby?
i don’t even blaze anymore, okay i’m smoking, maybe
i’m only sayin’ baby, who can you trust?
i swear these girls, they be askin’ for too much
when they want me to take care of them, marry ’em
get old with them and bury ’em
and on our anniversary, something special prepared for ’em
chill with ’em, be real with ’em, love ’em and have a meal with ’em
on the real, i don’t feel i could deal with ’em
you feel me though?
seattle, do you feel me though?
new york city, do you feel me though?
and i’m done
nah, i won’t charge ya for it
i hate authority, got a problem with law enforcement

[outro]
ha, ha, ha
alright man, run that back, i’m good
lachow

- sam lachow lyrics

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