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ron burgundy - tyrone briggs lyrics

(tyrone briggs)
ron burgundy how i tell a vision
before bob laid down the drums, this sh*t was finished
lyrically fei long, it’s fire when i kick it
don’t share moves with no one, no ryu to my kinship
you feel me lawd
it ain’t nothing to rap to me
nothing wack, or average, it’s either heat or a masterpiece
sample chopped by fresh, through the pass to me
with slaps hard enough to get us banned from an academy
keep my wife’s name out you’re f*cking mouth
daylight savings time, see the rise when son come out
can out lap them without passing the paton
this sh*t is remotе learning, i’m in a class all on my own
don’t compare me to dudеs that wear a thousand dollar belt
but won’t invest 100 dollars on they self
and wonder why the fan base from your hometown is often doing awful
n0body gonna support you until you support you
stupid
(flukey)
like we always do about this time
look
flukey the illest
these dudes beginners
the rest of them just pretenders, dude
they couldn’t fit my tennis shoes
i run with n*ggas they in the room then you hid you jewels
we different dudes, if we say we did it we did it too
n*gga, flu too cool for you dudes to ridicule
tell the truth, admit
ya’ll n*ggas pick and choose
and fabricate your truth when you spit, so you can fit in crews
than your whole dictions a contradiction dude
somebody tell bobby this beat a body
body slamming rappers, running my city, jesse the body
all these rappers claiming they king, but i see no body
first rapper screaming my name, then i see a body
we’ll see about it, but see i thought i told ya’ll not to f*ck with me
i thought i told you n*ggas we spit buck fifties
on the low, i know all ya’ll n*ggas look up to me
that’s not you dude if you said that he could keep up with me

(goldie cobain)
i said what i said
i saw crunch time he said it’s crunch time
he took a little sabbatical let his funds climb
i remember it vividly ducking one time
now we trapping immaculate on the front line
don’t bother miss carter she mad
the head good she ski free cause bad
pop tags and drop bags and we brag
no gun flashing freeze tag cause we dads
i see ya copping sh*t that we had
i hear ya popping sh*t like he mad
im on a thousand we brought the pounds in
a kilo is a thousand grams provide the housing
look brother that’s word to lu’s mother
i been inside of the poom poom and you love her
door banging like boom boom it’s who other
none other, cobain i brung b*tter
(squeegie o)
n*ggas be at these shows rockin they sisters clothes thinking they next up
you call this sh*t local i call it check cuts
b*tch i’ll sign your pity on the runny kind
sada tay
pull a chester bean screaming help police
twisted on harbor day
black jesus on the platform
last of the mohegans
cause real n*gga season is rare
from the era of the schemers
jean shorts on like i’m the black john cena
you n*ggas ain’t seeing the flesh
there’s no way you could connect to spirit
shut down the play with a pass interference
son i got love for tyrone briggs
but that ugly m*th*f*cka owes me bread
cause i wrote half of tyrone sh*t
on my reggie i’ll be that
my nickname is f*ck you b*tch
cause all the hoes know that he ain’t sh*t
turn you album to a weed tray
my sh*t spins on shade 45 like i got nudes blackmailing the djs

- tyrone briggs lyrics

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