Pro Era - The Renaissance lyrics

[A La $ole] Straight from the f**ing dungeon raps [Verse 1: A La $ole] From the era of the boom baps Spiggity splat man, I'm sick with the raps Move caps and naps when I rip the rhythm fast k**ing the ma**, Crooklyn, represent the clan Your green shorter than gra**, my n***a, just relax Before we make emcees run, I don't play guns But I spit straight bullets like I ate some Who gone shake 'em, none of y'all can pace 'em Never been defeated, better time to break a leg, son You know the Gawd stay pipe broads and write bars I make rappers fall easy on the mic brawl I know life hard, better check if your mind is right Despite the trife, no brother can step inside my sight I leave them lights out, no Edison, I'm better than When I set it in, I shift then cause a weatherin' f** your settings man, we just out for dead presidents Rush more loot to my wallet, then light the clematis The specialist, you thirsty n***as need a beverage I'll bend your chick back and clap, then I'm off of that You n***as need to stop that awful rap I'm all for rap, but its sad what emcees have to offer rap Get off and spazz, attack whoever talking trash I'll straight thrash any n***a who try to pa** You peep the mask, we coming out for all the stacks Better back back Give me that, give me that, take this, f** that [Hook x2: Joey Bada$$] Sometimes n***as will ride with ya, sometimes the Other side just come alive in em And it's hard to decide when you trynna survive In a, world of fake lies, fake guys, and snakes in the sky [Verse 2: Joey Bada$$] I take walks in the back of my mind Came across all sorts of faults in mankinds Some n***as is vampires and bloods**ers 'Stake em for blood brothers Til they do the forbidden to get in where he fit in I peep sh** that's mad hidden Had the writtens, cool, calm, collect like I had the Ritalin Only thing getting popped is, mami who topless Five finger shoplift, hotlist when I drop this Over the Metropolis Only place you be is where yo metro fees n***a, stop it, I'm in the co*kpit, with the pilot Money I pile it, stylin' Impalas God emcees spitting Rikers Islands Hold your eyelids, wide open, cause how I live n***as ain't got time for breaks, big mistake While you sleep, we'll take your plate, leave it scraped Beast coast, you know! But you can't relate It's the anthem, get your damn hands up Split wigs like sick cancers, attack then switch stanzas f** a chick's standards, no chick before my grammar Got the bars on lock, but can't get handcuffed Get your Jordans scuffed, trying to kick it with me and my n***as Lifted off the eighth leg, sh** is mad wicked They on they pivot when we started spinning We in it to win it, only L's we see be full of spinach It take money to make money, streets ain't safe, honey Yeah the block be hot but it ain't sunny, don't strafe Funny, look both ways when you cross here Last dread found dead caught in the crosshairs That's a regular report here Patrol patrolling all year, but only support theirs Watch which lane you swerving, fast life, fast learning 'till you're Turning indentured servants