Brian Jones - Hol' Up (Remix) lyrics

[Intro: Henry Was] We drop a beat to double take to Masterpiece to mack a mate too Mack this track up in ya bedroom Undies sink ya need a canoe Fire's got you lighting candles Acting crazy getting tattoos In twenty years you can tell ya kids This is what they made too [Hook 1] Hol' Up, Hol' Up, Hol'Up, Hol' Up Hol' Up, Hol' Up, Hol'Up, Hol' Up Yeah big sh** poppin, everybody watchin When your shockin em like the dead rising out a coffin [Verse 1: Henry Was White wine with the swagger, stumbling but spitting daggers Unlikely and a** backwards, but too a**y of an actor Quickly become a factor, just need to forget my mathematics Only got attic space for my craft and nasty habits Mackin tracks like a rabbid rabbits Banged a bunny, played Aladdin She doing work on the carrot She tells me her wishes granted I'm feeling like Roman planets She's wetter than thirsty salmon I'm thinking how dope the moment She's sinking into the satin (Hol up) And I swang it right back in This one face hip-hop best not forget despite the melanin Say one thing bout eminem and I'll f**ing fist ya filaments We that unique specimen, cultured, bring you that medicine Its the darier denizen, telamon venison Of the feline gelatin, Semi-geniune gentleman Best of bedside Beduins Rolling with dolphins, they reveling and Singing my praises, flipping out Leaving with exoskeletons The regimen's definite, pelican of the estrogen Sending texty-a** s**ts goin elephant from 'merica to Edmonton, Lebanon, rap a lap back to China town Rap this track half to d**h, you had best stab it with adrenaline [Hook 2] [Verse 2] This that English poetry, meets street prose and hosiery Hoes know its me, Handsome result of they rosaries The road erodes in front of he who cast the first stone Guess that makes me the demon who rise up to claim the throne I've got a mind that split in half between my current life and the last I've got memories that probably make me seem madder than hats I've got dreams that probably make me seem sadder than that Giving up college degrees cause he's obsessing with rap Time to be dropping the act, a white rabbit and cap I'm a scrub of the rats, scratching just to rise up the pack A blind man up to bat, he's straight swingin hardly tell if he's missin Or if the ball rise like Tatum glisses Oh god damn it lost my marbles and gla**es Studio cables as mixed up as my mind's tangled ma**es Elastic span of attention but his hunger is Jura**ic Spastic, but determined till he drops into the casket Tragic, could have been a doctor or a lawyer or a thief But Chance, and K, and J slammed these words into my sleep Not quite selling me soul, but I'm selling my seat On the top of the heap begging for scraps at rap's feet, Hol' Up [Trumpet Solo: JJ Kirkpatrick] [Hook III] [Sax solo: Rob Sheppard] [Hook IV]