Chorus: T*Spark
You’ve got to keep your eyes open, coz you never know when;
Your life could be stolen, away from you.
Too many guns blowing, we’re losing control and;
Where are we hoping it’s leading us to?

First verse: Medicine
I figured the block ain’t worth it;
One too many currents in a line short circuit.
I’m from the south of the southern most, where nothing’s perfect;
Snatching papers from Louis Vuitton purses.
Giving you value for money in lyrical verses;
Flowing on ssshhh beats, I call them curses.
Now we’ve got the koldgeneration racing to churches;
Coz we’re coming to town parading like it’s a circus.
Don’t get me wrong, homie, I’m rolling with my clique;
If you think you’re goin’ to tag me, you’d better think quick.
This ain’t a game, homie, you’d better be ready to spit;
And just because you’ve beenthinking about it you make me sick.
Too many actors in this industry think this is a flick;
Taking all the credit just for reading a script.
None of you hookers could, even walk a mile on my strip;
Clip, grip, tell the streets they can fight over this one, yeah!

Repeat Chorus: T*Spark

Second verse: Scarlet Green.134625
I, can’t say that I’ve been shot, never had a vest on;
Thank God, coz I’ve never been hungry or short of pennies.
Grew up in spots where cops don’t even stop cars;
The boozhie suburbs, so holler when you see me baby.
But take your focus off the profile or accent;
My flow upon the mic set’s much more legendary.
Preferably I keep my thing hot, drop it coz it’s been cocked for yall to bump when yall hear it
Rougher and more heavy than the average dude spits, designed so when it hit’s;
You all will be like: who’s this?
Turn it on and get attention at the streetlights;
They’ll never pull you over, trust me coz the beat’s tight.
Here’s something for the G-type that kick it on those late nights;
Racing, with the tail-pipe, burning like an ounce in it, bounce with it.
Out to take over all the valuable work on both sides;
If you’re a hustler: you’re in trouble this summer, I won’t lie.

Repeat Chorus: T*Spark

Bridge: Whispa + Medicine + Moki
Hey, you can’t blame me!
Coz some of my goons smoke crack, and might pack gats;
Acting like we don’t know how to act.
You can’t blame me!
Just because my dough stacked up and the girls jump;
Whenever the posse roll up.
You can’t blame me!
Coz all of the real fellows get down, they feel the bass pound;
Every time we come around.
At any sec now we might stop dumping, your soft type better start ducking;
Say something then!

Repeat Chorus: T*Spark

© Koldproduk