Твердый Шаг

Mm-hmm. Destiny MLC. Yo. Homeboy. Uh-huh. Simple nice. On the mic. What, what. Doing some ill boy shit, know me. The biggest star. I say say word. And Passy Simon. Caribbean shit. What the deal? What the deal, niggas? What the deal? What the deal, niggas? What the deal? Yo. Yeah. Yeah, yeah. Come on. Yo. It's like a dream rhymes connect well like The ends. More precisely made of ends that join The rings to make up a chain scene. Paintbrush brushing gosh, red blood through the Membrane. Four lines or phrases make a quatrain in Poetry. Net like a coquetry. Catch a glimpse of things in the wall where Any nigga showcase some low mental faculty. Like a bigger fallacy amid the summer fantasy. Creeping and creeping. Ladies bright like a flash With the beauty of a stash of cash. Damn things scriping and skimping. Saving for rainy day, but the cash got splashed On the mamis doing the lap dance. Hop in a trance, my man. No finance for life boiling in the highest expense. Poetry score bigger and deeper than the level of The sea, son. Right. But the brains of so Many men stay pen and tend to stay shallow. I like what I do, I do what I Do like so cool, dude. Damn well with so much gusto. Gusto. Wrist to the elbow. I'm busting off the Ego, sing a song like the sparrow. Loving all my peoples, never ever loving the po-pos. No kudos to those lumbering. It's not even evening. Focusing and laboring. Paying the price it takes to have a true Feel of the queen. My queen, all the men Who they living with the highest esteem. Yo. Yo. I say a word. And Passy Simon, yo. I say a word. What, I just say a word, mommy. Check this out, Yo. Yeah, Yeah. That's What it is, yo. Uh-huh. Simple Simon. Simple Simon. And Pass. And Pass, Pass. What? Mr. Simon. Uh-huh. Yo. For y'all who be talking shit about us, You know what I mean? This is how we Get down. Yo. This is how we connect, You know what I'm saying? It's a brotherhood. We keeping it brotherly. Uh-huh. You know what I'm saying? That's that the trinity. Hip-hop, you don't quit to the grave. And Passy Simon. That's what it is. Fuck y'all. I say it again. Fuck y'all. Fuck fuck y'all, fuck y'all. Uh. Uh-huh.