Timothy Blair - Medley lyrics

Yea Return of the golden era, n***a It's your boy, Tim Dog f** what ya'll n***as talking about The golden era Where I'm from We still spit on ya'll n***as Ya'll new n***as ain't sh** [Verse One] Lay sh** down Put it up n***a Double up Lay your whole chips down, n***a Let's bubble up n***as f**ing with the D.o.g Be coming at me like the police with an A.P.B But you don't recognize lately I know you hate me You n***as really underrate me But dog is greatly I move them keys like I'm Macy Or Count Basie n***as is thinking the Dog is sleeping cause the eyes are lazy n***as you crazy I bother you and your moms, the neighbors and the babies I come to get it on with the Army and the Navy I spit facts Watch emcees buckle and get back I sit back Your head get big, I push your wig back Brain slat all over your chain and your six pack Your b**h wack Nutted on her a** and the sh** crack The pimps back Rolling with diamonds and a six, black The trunk's fat Filled with autos something sick, black The Dog's back Ready for you h*mos and you f*gs f** your promos and mags Put them doughnuts in the bag But you don't understand the lingo You f**ing gringo It's the money in the bundle Rubber band wrapped around the b**h n***a make it rain Real G's make it drowning So come on Who want more? f**ing doubt it n***as know I'm no limit Cause the Dog's f**ing bout it We can talk arsenal Whatever n***a, I got it Yo, no matter whatcha'll new rapper say Ya'll can't f** with the golden era Let's go [Verse Two] n***as claim they're hardcore But they ain't came more raw [?] Roll up the window panel You switched the handle n***a playing me a truck with the ammo You can be a shark in the game I'm a mammal Or you can get high on life And get smoked off the camel Cause you and me are not equal I'm God, your not Han Solo Your R2-D2 Lying to your fans but to me your see through sh** list baby Here's a mother f**ing preview I'm the unsigned hype My game is so precise on the mic and life Get dissed tonight Ima show you why the pimp was right You married your baby mom after five kids I f**ed the first night I hit it when the b**h was tight You can't run from me n***a lace your Nikes You can't eat my food when I ate your Life n***a you can't beat a gun with a knife Or pipe But maybe if your nice, all right You couldn't bring your f**ing man, two body guards and DJ With one hand laying down n***as easy Yea, I heard about the sh** you saying And i heard about the fact that you print the game But I don't like the way ya'll n***as try to come in my lane Try to change the game Try to re-arrange Try to make it hard for me So I'm bringing the pain I want ya'll n***as way back n***as call me the problem child cause I don't know how to act Then smack a n***a fast I come see you at the Grammys or your office, whatever I'm in ya'll n***as a** On gun, two gun, three gun, four Five gun, six gun, seven guns, more Bring your whole team to my f**ing front door Murder all ya'll n***as with C-4 n***as think I'm sore cause I run with Kool Keith and Ultra South Bronx n***a where murder is culture Webster Ave n***a where beef is Kosher Bring it on n***a I toast ya BX stand up I'm bringing home the crown I owe it all to you cause you held me down Ain't no other Bronx rappers are making a sound But I'm a tear there sh** down n***as won't let me eat Who won't let me air this sh** now? BX stand up! We invented Hip Hop!