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5 fingers (till' the end) - the modern day lyrics

[lead-in]

real eyes realize real lies (x2)

[verse 1: brad holmes]

a bored boy who’s offending all the m-sses
chill with franz, all my songs ought to turn to cl-ssics
started i was nine and inspired by the magic
of shady’s mad raps now his hats are popping rabbits
matches sparked, fire flames spitting out as drool
a basket in the game, i’ma splash in the pool
of all these sharks with these b-tchy fishes in the school
f-ck a cl-ss, f-ck a room, my reign will rain doom
in my kingdom i reside, with queens on my mind
i’ma make my mother rich enough to last for ten lives
and if my mother’s sick, bet i’m by her bed side
i’ll buy a bed so nice so i can sleep through the night
i’m dreaming of the future as the past p-sses by
lit the magic candle light, hocus pocus i can write
old school enough to teach even jesus ’bout his rights
riiiiiiights

seconds p-ss fast
my speech is getting slurred, vision getting blurred
the sky is getting foggy so it’s doobies for the hurt
the sky is getting foggy so it’s doobies for the hurt
it’s doobies for the hurt
it’s doobies for the hurt

[bridge/hook: brad holmes]

i arrive with a bang
no sh-ts or a care
doin’ my thang
got a mind really rare
some ho wanna hang
always gotta share
count my real friends
5 fingers in the air

5 fingers in the air
5 fingers in the air

squad till’ the end
5 fingers in the air
shout my dude ben
5 fingers in the air

[verse 2: b-sim]

yo, i’ma tell em’ like this man, check it…

create rhymes through patience and time
listen deep and realize the way i travel through minds
so fresh you’d think my whole crew traveled through time
even without a delorean we’re still living in glorious times
people on my back telling me to get sh-t done
i tell em’ wait till’ the tape
drop lines like bombs and watch em’ all run
keep to myself, a loner
5 fingers in the air, all my real friends are stoners
keep a dime sack in my pocket, sp-ce shuttle level
i’m never grounded just like active rockets, soaring through the air
catch me hanging on the moon, often no oxygen
moon walking into my own coffin
there’s no stoppin’
flow’s a triple reverse option
there’s no toppin’
for a whole week there was no coppin’
i’m glad i was introduced back to my old ways
cuz’ in the future i’ll just want to go back to the old days
that’s how i feel about my friends at the moment
like chemistry, you mix us up, we seem to be the right components
people talk down when they hear that i can rap
i spit true just open your ears to hear that
i got some mother f-ckin’ goons on my back
see us together in person, we tend to move in a pack
it goes toke, smoke, cruise and relax
only roll through my city when we don’t have the thrax
my older bro taught me that

b-tch!

mother f-ckin’ 2-1-6!

- the modern day lyrics

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