Nick Banga - Past the Mic lyrics

Published

0 144 0

Nick Banga - Past the Mic lyrics

[Verse 1] [Jet 2] Rockin' in the city of the lost angels I'mma ball, this is all on my mind All I need is a shot, kinda far from a crime Searchin' for my other half to these rhymes I'mma know when it's time so, I'mma keep it cool [Hitman] Keep it cool like my Ciroc and ice cubes I'm like f** what you heard, though it's all true Runnin' game in my fits, a law-suit Don't get lost boo [Jet 2] Cause at this time, you ain't far from a stick up Been doin' this music feelin' far from a deal Gettin' closer to a dealer (dilla), not J from Slum Village Been tryin' to fund this sh**, it's what happens when your funds' missin' Gotta get it [Hitman] Yeah, gotta get it 'fo someobody come up missin' Make me wanna go harder thinkin' 'bout my children And you n***as is faker than all my children You're all my children, yeah [Jet 2] While I'm in the buildin', I realize they're surprised I give an ill grin... Not because I'm sick though Because I notice my clique go harder than a part of wood, right? Premonition past the mic, yeah [Hook: Jet 2 & Brittney Jaii] Yeah, this is past life, before we touched the mic Before we knew what we had, right? Before we even met and got to feel what the cash like Before they even knew that we rap, right? This here is that life Before, I-"imma Be," I-I-"Imma be" (Just pa** the mic 3x) Pa** it over here, y'all [Verse 2] [Hitman] Okay, Hitman's on, brought the swag with that You're nameless, blame this on me statin' the facts Rappin' wit' my n***a that got my lyrical back Now I moved up in Wrekless, some n***as fell off the map Wrek-City, now yo' n***a missin' a kidney I'm lookin' Spiffy All about dollars, a couple fifties, pound sign 'iffy,' Why my baby momma ain't wit' me? Cause I'm chillin' wit' different b**hes every night n***a ooh [Jet 2] See this flow'll change her attitude if she's conceited Back then she didn't believe, but now we're stars and she could see it Four hundred meter dash on the back stretch, the track's ripped The irony of buying 'we' is like a black-smith They bring it home like the anchor, that's the last leg of a relay Simply cause we got the game on lock like a DJ with a keychain At the pre-game spinnin' these records that we make [Hitman] Look, we rap to burn, to cremate All you n***as who figured to worry about who gay Touché to go hard, ain't worried 'bout who can't Me and Jet to blow, get ready for two tanks Loot, bank, money, money, f**ed over 'til it came Face... The only time I'll take a dumb brain The stu' my domain, PT to bang bang "Come hang" a text from yo' chick's a shame Because [Hook: Jet 2 & Brittney Jaii] [Verse 3] [Jet 2] Here we are as one Finally united like the flight and you're a target [Hitman] I'm a marksman, my department Yeah, heavily guarded by some artists You get set up when I'm fed up How I turn 'em to plain targets [Jet 2] Yeah, Peyton Manning on offense No longer a Colt, but still ridin' with the horses Wouldn't get the picture if it's painted in a portrait I double X-L, now they wonder where my source is [Hitman] And my Porsche is comin' up like fork-lift Know where I'm from? Crash courses Hit abortion, I came out too early But too early still came with no worries [Bridge: Brittney Jaii] [Hook: Jet 2 & Brittney Jaii] [Outro: Jet 2]