Ft. Jon Connor
[Maffew Ragazino]
Every time he go, he go in like he on Stretch & Bobbito
Circa 93' flow
This rap sh** is but a free throw, well ease how I paint portraits, no easel
The word play so lethal as cold as Andre with a Kanye ego
I'm the antidote, even your mama knows
But common sense ain't common amongst common folks
Food for thought, main entrée
But they want microwaveable sh** with paper plates
No cosign, no payola, all that sh** is fake luv, Angel Lola
And Shawty is cute, I ain't trying to diss
I mean she give me the p**y I prolly hit
Frankie Cutla** wasn't lying about the politics
It's all bullsh**, vote republican
Donkey or elephant, I'll tighten my belt before I sell out for my relevance
And fame and money and all those other perks that come with it
That's why still do this sh** like it's 1 9 9 5
And I still do this sh** like it's 1 9 9 5
And I still do this sh** like it's 1 9 9 5
And I still do this sh** like it's 1 9 9 5, right
[Maffew Ragazino]
What would have happened if Aaliyah would have flew alone?
Or if Makavelli (Machiavelli) really truly had a clone?
Or if Big Poppa would have stayed his a** at home?
How far could that coast rivalry really gone?
Hypnotize Remix with 2pac on it
Pardon my idle mind, I know I'm really zoning
Whenever you in Rome, they say do as the the Romans
But the industries roam and I'm doing my own sh**
Stepping on toes along the way, like f** it I meant it
You ain't gotta pardon me, like I'm Forte
Seekin refuge, we want our reparations but they refuse
Over your head ain't it, I'm just putting a little paint where it ain't at
Walking the plank damn it with the waters that are sharks infested
I stand the test of time every single time that I'm tested
An empty bottle of cognac with a message, inside of it
Some of ya will get it, but it's obvious that a lot of ya'll prolly won't
And I still do this sh** like it's 1 9 9 5
And I still do this sh** like it's 1 9 9 5
And I still do this sh** like it's 1 9 9 5, right
[Jon Connor]
It's Jon Connor, yo
This sh** is gorgeous I k** it I'm morbid
The flow is wet, I spit it, it's pouring
You n***as absorb it the flow is dope
As cuban imported I'm coke when recording
Yes this is straight raw, and you spitting that Norbit
Whether they, shoot it or snort it
I send they brain into orbit
How could a flow this sick be just the doctor ordered
Look, before I sell out, I bail out and Dave Chapelle out
In Africa with Naydee and Seedie speakin swahili
And if it's 1995 then let me get it back, and rip it spit
Like 2 Pac was gon diss me if this sh** was whack
Like I'm a bad boy like Martin, Willie and Biggie and Diddy in the back
Mariah on the hook in a Yankee fitted hat
Where my n***as at? Fake n***as better play dead
Ain't Peter Parker but I run sh** like I had 8 legs, I'm Forrest Gump-in you
Lieutenant Dan and you got fake legs, and look
They can't keep up cause they feet stuck, put your teeth up when
When I beast up, n***a, what, what, what, what
And I still do this sh** like it's 1 9 9 5, right