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PRO ERA

Resurrection Of Real

 

Resurrection Of Real

(album: PEEP: The aPROcalypse - 2012)


[A La $ole:]
Yo, I don't give a fuck!
Mic checka, the Smith & Wesson

Resurrected the borough who been the most respected
Protect your neck or get pro techs, at your necklace
Relentless killers for 5 dollar billas with nine 9s
Double the rhymes when I spit it like dos times
Mira mami my flow shine, you co-sign, I throw lines
For the 4th time like cuatro, head hancho
The glocc let them things go, click clack bang! Marlon Pop's flow
Cookin up cheese that's not yours
One bad gaucho, I got chose
I got hoes that go down low like potholes for pot gold
My pockets hold more shit, if you want beef, no sloppy joes
I been drop bombs since snot nose
You niggas can't fuck with the unfuckable
Been styling since 9-4, my flow been put in, on my Huxtable
You can't touch the untouchable demolition destructional
Better listen for the instructional
We cause havoc when we Mobb deep
Spark trees forest fires, messiah from the dark streets
No harm G, where armories get aimed at your arteries
For broader cheese niggas playing with the lottery
Or commit grand larceny, pardon me, accordally
Ain't no one spittin as hard as we
At the top is where I ought to be
Prophet for knowledge the way I'm partin seas
Honestly I'm just getting started G no keys, I open doors
Kick em down wearing fours
Cause the 4-5 is in line with your pores, no sweat
I'm just a Pro ya know
Brooklyn the jungle so hoes depose their clothes
So the sole ain't better than you is? No chizz
Just stand back while I state my top goal
Your chicks top goes when she drops jaws, for the low she get low
I suppose she down to go, you know
It's the Gawd, I be killin em with the flow
Been a rebel you niggas pebbles to my mountain top
I guess I rock, you'll get two packs with these two hot shots
RIP leave you buried in 2Pac's spot, nigga

[Nyck Caution:]
When I rap it's like I'm blowing through a crack pipe
Flowing on this half pipe
Dope, like why the fuck you ask twice?
What the fuck is YOLO?
Probably been a pharoah in my past life
Eighteen so this dynasty gon sound right
Drop a song think it sounded nice
All of you just sound alike
Yeah while I fuckin steer a mountain bike
I'm so Everest, you ain't got no merits
Just fuckin caution, American legend til they bury him
Born as a winner, when it storm in the winter
Keep it calm and consider, we harmin your liver
If you drip, blimps up, sips from my pimp cup
This is what we living, shit you finally get a glimpse of
Motherfucker, I ain't scared of no man
I got that weight like Roseanne, keep these bitches focused
Yeah you know I puff the tree, so my throat is swollen
I dont need a motive, I just keep on rolling
Until it's flat and the tire pop, freezin in the fire box
Over weight ladies they screaming when the choir starts
Everybody got the dreams that requires art, and expires hearts
So will you take the deal, damn
The flow is real like my birth rights
Saying that I've been cursed twice
Blessed with absurd flight
Thinking I'm a threat, you heard right
Never got em first but I earn stripes
And I learned how to reep em, delete em, and impeach a legion of losers
And start a cause for the lost, believe in the truest like ya'll
You see I'm flowin, twistin like a back flip
Rippin through these chap lips
I've been spittin crack since
So keep it real in a hunnid
When you chill at the top then you feel it is plummit
Motherfucker that spot for me
In the jungle too hot to breathe, you will not proceed
So you better stay cautionary, you lost already
No chorus just corpes plenty
Porridge empty illness what you feel
Redirect and chill while we ressurrect what's real, Caution

Motherfucking NYCk Caution, tell the bitches get off him

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