Nappy Roots Ballin’ On A Budget

[Ron Clutch]

I’m just a, big bang baller on a budget

Dank weed, smokin like “fuck it”

City slicker, country nigga, reppin straight from Kentucky

Horseshoes and rabbit paws flossin, chicken closs for the lucky

40 flowers, Range Rovers, so they know the tailpipe’s rusted

[Big V]

Country cookin, dog fightin, big-body ridin

Chillin like a mug in Western Kentuck’, showin love

Summertime a funner time, smoke and gunner time

Sippin Sprite and somethin dark, every fuckin time

[Scales]

Uhh, okay watch how the po’ folk ball

Stomp through to mall in my overalls, the black Girbaud

No pager, no cellphone, no access at all

Just a pack of Dutch Masters and a pint of alcohol

[Skinny DeVille]

My hooptie, with a down crew like Boots said

You don’t +Perm+, +Fuck a+ fade

let my hair swang back and forth like a germ

Ill nigga with sick shit, pull out this and stick it in this thick chick

Baby mama drama, child support court and ain’t worth the biscuit

[Chorus: Skinny]

Whattcha know about them backwood country folk?

Whattcha know about the ‘Lac bone hundred spoke?

Jimmy Crack Corn; no fade, no comb

Whattcha know about ballin on a budget bro?

I’m just ballin on a budget yeaga (yeaga)

I’m just ballin on a budget yeaga (yeaga)

I’m just ballin on a budget yeaga (yeaga)

It’s the N the A the P-P-Y

[B. Stille]

Pull up, dead horns on the hood of my truck

Kentucky Mud on my shoes and my socks

Hungry Jack, pheffer tryna stuff some food in my gut

Country cat in the cowboy hat

I’m front to back put the house on that

[Ron Clutch]

Candied yams, chitlins, greens, and smoked country ham

Chicken wings, cornbread, gran in the kitchen throwin down

Eat good, tryna smoke somethin, run up on a pound

Roll somethin, gut a vega tryna stuff it with a ounce

[Big V]

Hummin, mama cookin that mean it’s Sunday mo’nin

Half a pint of bootleg gin, it keep my goin

Fat knot, (?) , bad daylight

Cigars and happy bags, man we stay right

[Scales]

Aww man, we go back, like sweet pickle book clubs

Nigga that was good love, summertime bathin in a foot tub

Damn that shit hurt, and my jams in that shirt

Atari 26, one stick, never worked

[Chorus: Skinny]

[B. Stille]

Comin up in the woods, all I did was run barefoot

Ne’er could comb my hair good

My hairline grew like ten pound vines

‘Tween my rib and my underware

It’s still a thin brown line, shit

[Big V]

Chores did, and ma work out on the clothin line

Cool as shit, country boys out on the grind

River views, picknic, big ticks covered the place

Folks visit, and make it apparent to come back again

[Scales]

Look here, see I smoke like a fire and a drink like a fish

That’s it, ecstasy just ain’t on my list

No comb, no brush, no fade, no pick

No shit, no hair and you get no dick

[B. Stille]

Now we love them gals that love themselves, them southern belles

Them Clydesdale Kentucky gals, with muddy tails

We cut them gals, no veils, no wedding bells

Trick on cheap hotels, KY gels and nothin else

[Chorus: Skinny]

Nappy Roots War / Peace

[R. Prophet]

Welcome

[Chorus 4x – Nappy Roots]

War/Peace, c’mon Nappy

Love/Lust, now say it, Roots

[R. Prophet]

I got a telegram from a pelican

Said in the clouds last night she got higher then she’s ever been

Seen shuttles and huddles, hard rocks and war bombs

In real life our words in distorted sound

Coke and Hen’ mix, guitar Jimi Hendrix

Smokes and blunts but this is my experience

The world’s corrupt, how can I defend it?

Need more love, that’s why I have to send it

[B. Stille]

Know what it is when you really tryin to be somethin

But in your minds you really can’t find nothin

But am I wrong if a preacher can’t reach me?

Or am I dumb cause a teacher can’t teach me?

I’m too black for this world here to bleach me

I’m too much hell for this heaven here to keep me

But you can beat me, slander me, cancel me

But see I’m real so you still gotta answer me

[Chorus]

[Skinny Deville]

The thought of all destruction, man ain’t nothin gonna last

I feel the pain and sufferin, the system done collapsed

Wood is burnin, big construction’s burnin, holdin on a pass

Shattered glass the aftermath, tragic death is on the trail

Empty shells, the ghetto’s extinct, there’s heaven and there’s hell

Burnin souls, the opposite of peace for 7 million years

Started livin well, self-esteem, been lovin with myself

It’s time for revolution, get yo’ gauge and bullets off the shelf

Because it’s war

[Ron Clutch]

Because the end is almost here but I done been here before

So I haven’t any fear for I trust in the Lord

When I die nobody cry, nobody shed not a tear

In the middle of the floor pour out your liquor and your beer

I’m still witcha, you can hear me loud and clearly

When I’m howlin at the moon (whoooooo)

Mama heard me freestylin in the womb

Heard me battlin the beat of her heart when it boom

I’m born again, I’m free! I’m Nappy to my Roots!

[Chorus]

[Big V]

Do it, c’mon, c’mon, yeah!

Do it, c’mon, c’mon, yeah!

Do it, c’mon, c’mon, yeah!

Do it, do it, do it, do it!

[B. Stille]

Rich man purchased a poor one

This land versus a fore run

Either you with us or for ’em

Pistols and missiles got ’em just to wage war on

It ain’t safe even in Oregon

Each mourn, then there’s more gone

Bloodshed filthy as the money it pours on

The guilty hand washes the sore one

King James boxin a Qu’ran

The officials are morons, can’t trust no one

[Big V]

But if the whinos don’t know it, the streets won’t repeat it

If it ain’t adverse, then the reverend won’t preach it

Represent the slums, the misfits and have-nots

Buddy we had not, born in a bad spot

[Chorus]

Nappy Roots Swerve & Lean

[Verse: Skinny Deville]

If them niggas wanna play

Let them ball till fall dog

Me, I want it all, y’all

From here to Californi-a

Hit the button, get the On-star

Pull up if your front yard

And fuck up your ordinary day

It’s the N-A-P-P-Y, y’all

On the grind ‘cuz time’s hard

Find me sippin’ Grand Marn-ier

At the bar with a bad broad

Yes I drive a fast car

Holla if you’re tryin’ to get laid

That’s on my son, Billy Kay

Best believe I’ma get you paid

And represent the motherfuckin’ K

How I was raised, that’s the way

And you live by this shit, then you die by the same

I ain’t trippin’, puttin’ half on the Jane

I’m gettin’ good about this math and even better ’bout my change

I hug the lane like I’m drivin’ with the wide load

I’m comin’ down, country clean, forever bona fide, ho

[Bridge (2X)]

So whatcha know about it?

Ain’t nothin’ slow about it

That boy sure got it

Give a fuck about nobody

[Chorus (2X)]

Swerve and lean

Swerve and lean

Swerve and lean

Bounce with it, bounce with it

[Verse: Skinny Deville]

Yeah, Skinny pull in a Range

Not the sport, but the big body

Supercharged, 24 inches, leather with the wood grain

Sunshine or the rain, ain’t a motherfucking thing

Hit a button, watch it take off like a plane

For the cash, not the fame

I’m the last one to laugh and get it all ‘fore the fat lady sings

See me shine without the bling

Got a bitch to wear my diamonds and I got a watch they call a bright Lane

Country clean on the right team

Some haters want to fight me

But I ain’t got nothin’ but the flame

That’s so bright from my forty cal’ ri’

‘Fore you run your mouth

Change your face like L’Oreal, dang

That nigga sly with his slang slump

Fifty-five, don’t give a fuck

Especially ’bout no sucker ass, lame

I come and snatch your lil’ chain

Put a hundred on the situation that you won’t do a damn thing

[Bridge (2X)]

[Chorus (2X)]

[Verse: Skinny Deville]

Yo, they try to call me in-sane

The way I flip it up the wall, man

Bitches on my dick, ‘specially ’cause the way I let my nuts hang

They call me billy big balls

Ain’t shit she can tell me dog

I’m raw for seven, twenty-four, damn

I know I’m worth a couple hundred grand

And I ain’t spittin’ another verse until I got my money in my hand

And we gon’ stick to the plan

Swerve and lean on these suckers

Makin’ sure you city slickers understand

That the dollars never made the man

Plain as day they never did

Nappy’s what I represent

I run this shit, call me Skinny D, the president

Drop it down so effortless

I’m slummer than you’ve ever been

[Bridge (2X)]

[Chorus (2X)]

[Chorus (2X)]

Bounce with it, bounce with it

Bounce with it, bounce with it

Nappy Roots Hustla

Got a cheese sandwich on the hunnid spoke

Pork rinds and a soda pop

I told a cop I’d beat it, lost

At 3 a.m., they told up “stop”

We got it real real, to the top

A G like 30 feet away from the county line

The weed flyin, the golden smilin

Wip it nice an then they sign

Man, fuck

How denyin’ my damn luck,

This ain’t no find if we get stuck I’m doin time

Don’t get messy with the Prezzy

A quarter pound ain’t worth the rizzy

Drunk as hell, then hurl the fifth

Back an forth we swerve and dip

Pumpkin pie

Bust a cop

I’ll be damned, they took my crop

Shook ’em wit that lead foot an hit about a hunid fi (105)

Miles per hour

In the country wit the pudin, good an chunky

40 acre, mule an donkey, hell with that, just get the money

Got to be that early bird

To grind an get what I deserve

Quick to burn an an can’t mesquite it

Lord I need it fore the third

Serve anybody? Hell naw, got to be for sure

Standin on the standard curb

Days begin to bend an blurred

Homegrown bacon

Yeah, I’m havin the wage

Tendency of a 50 hit, when its about gettin payed

Came along with a ragin theif hidin under the shade

An momma won’t quit buggin me about my heathenish ways

Now I’ve wasted more tears then my mouth cold beer

Gotta be a Man on these rolls, overcomin my fears

Body too quick to gaze, with they head on bob

Get dee, life is foul but the dirt is hard, yeah! (hustla)

[Chorus:]

If you play the cards you delt, then you stuggle, got to put in work (hustla)

And I got to be the early bird to grind and get what I deserve (hustla)

If you play the cards you delt, then you stuggle, got to put in work (hustla)

And I got to be the early bird to grind and get what I deserve (hustla)

Aint no tenth, 35%

Dent in my hub caps, sticks in my dove sacks, fifth till I cuts that

Look, my baby husband got to eat some mo

Dough is what Im reachin fo

Money low, need some mo

Hustlin these streets alone

Now everyday I work, 75

A&R tellin me lies

Fore I die, wanna drive big bodies wit bubbla die

Now peep the otha side, ova them hills

Rich dude that own them mills

Tha candy sto is open for sale

These junkies gone smoke it to death

Money, hos, clothes, auto-mobiles, gold grills

no scrill, no deal, fifth weel, big grill

wood grain sturnweel, weigh it up, be still

lay it on the fish scales

I’m assed out in the back seat of the Pont-i-ac

Got a cup full of Con-i-ac

Quarter out of hunny sacks

Tell me get my money back

Still broke, feel like I ain’t got shit to live fo

So much to kill fo

C’mon, this niggas transition, ain’t no use in sittin round wishin

But my hands ichin, poppa need a new transmition

Get my grind on, hustle that bustle to make my grip in any time zone

Bundle that bubble, lets make it split

We buy: peices, ounces, keys, weed, Xs, Zs

nigga, please, anything you ask fo, we got what you need

To these college degrees we applyin to streets, cause I’m a (hustla)

[Chorus:]

If you play the cards you delt, then you stuggle, got to put in work (hustla)

And I got to be the early bird to grind and get what I deserve (hustla)

If you play the cards you delt, then you stuggle, got to put in work (hustla)

And I got to be the early bird to grind and get what I deserve (hustla)

[spoken]

Hustla. Carry many meanings..

Whether you a crook in them books

whether you usin your mind or usin a 9

bootleg alcohol, or runnin the ball

you must get it in. You was born a hustla

an you a die a hustla. Prophit, hit ’em wit it

[spoken end]

I pause and refine a mighty floss, et cetera

For life in a ballance, of it

Lyin an shinin a beddy ro

I gotta be worse than a hust fa mine (I mean)

If I don’t crush it then Imma bust the 9

I tell ya dog, get on the blocks in over-alls, its over y’all

Wit all dem boys stay hot, said if we blow out finna go a billion time

Ya know me dog, neva be a oldie dog

My state of mind’s on the grind like a eighths of raw

Dont go trickin ’em all, Imma have you bust for all my yiggas

Live for the days so we can hustle ’em all, aww!

What? What? What? Aw! Aww!

Nappy Roots Hazy

(I don’t know where I’m going

Like a feather in the air

Hope the good wind starts blowing

Send me soaring, unaware)

(Send me soaring)…

Yup, I just got back with some Colorado bull

I got so much, it’s like California love

West coasting, hide in the mud

So high, like a cloud in the sun

I’ll glide, there’s no doubt like when

Sipping on the serve while I rock it with the hen

I ain’t mad, just we really ain’t friends

It’s been a long while, but that was way back when

Never mind, I ain’t trying to reminisce

I’m living for the minute, I ain’t trying to remember this

Live a while but might talk a lot of shit

What, bet a hundred bucks, got to back it up quick

But no luck, boy, I’ll bust your lip

Might look slim, but I ain’t no bitch

Nah, and I ain’t that rich

Keep flashing that cheese and I’ll cash your chips

[Chorus:]

Baby, baby, motivate me

Call me, text me, like me, hate me

Baby, we can roll up daily

Finally, all we got is hazy

[x2]

(I don’t know where I’m going

Like a feather in the air

Hope the good wind starts blowing

Send me soaring, unaware)

Vegas, Vegas, green know Afghanistan

Take us, straight up, like Charlie Corses in France

London, Ashdale, I’m ace-struck to rest trail

Milledgeville, phone home

Say, “Who is this?” “Fish Scales!”

First week in Berkeley, Berkeley to Erskine

That’s UK, not bubble bringer

Top that, toupee

Dubai, Nottingham, Waterloo Bay with Miley Grahams

Nova Scotia in the trailer park, like Auckland braiders to the lost ark

Yellowstone, wool park, Alabama, we’re rich, boy

Panama, not PCB

This real yoga, not TCB

Best IHOP is in Memphis

Pimp shit’s my holidays

My sun is out of my English muffin

You surely noticed a difference when I pull a plan that’s man as shit

Social club and her better shit

My little brand name so Anna chick

My south side, Baydanal clique

Raise up, raise up, we all over, raise up

Cadillac on 80-something

We too much, can’t save us

[Chorus]

(Send me soaring)…

Nappy Roots Awnaw

Yeah, haha Nappy Roots

Awwnaw!

[Hook]

Awnaw! Hell naw! Man

Y’all done up and done it

Awnaw! Hell naw! Boy

Y’all done up and done it

Awnaw! Hell naw! Boy

Y’all done up and done it

Ah, y’all done up and done it

Man y’all done up and done it

[Fish Scales]

My first song was like forty-eight bars with no hook

You hear me flippin thru my pages out my favorite notebook

The microphone was in the closet (What?) No headphones, we lost it

Niggas scared to get some water, roaches hangin over the faucets

No AC, Tez’ll break a sweat just tryin to make beats

E-Dubz was being a hustler, (Heeeyy man!)

all play flirtin all his customers, and flat broke

Nappy smokin blacks out on the back po’ch

I’m thinkin I got everything a country boy could ask for

[Big V]

Now what we do to get here? (Say dat boy!!)

Lay it down and bring it to ya raw (Say dat boy!!)

Hey now we hurt some, suffered for more, takes what we work for

Hated for for the cussin, but the hatred it made us cuss more

Held on, but it was hard – stepped up, took charge

Ran thru what we scared up, but what was we afraid for?

Look what we made of, heart that what made us

Being here is alright, but MUST believe we won’t fall!

Them country boys on the rise!

With them big fat wheels on the side!

Peep them vertical grills on the ride!

And aw-awww-awww-awwwww!

[Repeat Hook over this part]

Them country boys

With them big fat wheels

Peep the vertical grills

And awwwwwwww!

[Saan/Skinny DeVille]

My yegga, we hogwild, bet that from that roota to that toota-file

Hell naw, them country boys ain’t headed south for six miles

Kentucky mud, them kinfolk, twankies with them hundred-spokes

Skullied on that front po’ch, plus you know they got ‘dro

Seventy-nine coupe DeVille vertical Caddy grill

Interstate 65 headin down to Cashville

Glass filled, to the tippy-top, back-seat Benz

Spent my last cent on the rent, left with pocket lints

A damn shame, gotta grind anythang and everythang

Jimmy Crack Corn, cross the county line with Mary Jane

A long time, a gravel road, to cash and fame and sold my soul

To Hell and back, and back and forth, with same jeans and nappy ‘fro

[R Prophit]

I might hop off the Harley, smoke pot like Bob Marley

Not parties with charties, wallin like they swallowin Bacardi

Them butter-skin, Prophit gotta like them

Understand you ’bout to lose ya life fuckin with THEEEMM!

Them country boys on the rise!

With them big fat wheels on the side!

Peep the vertical grills on the ride!

And aw-awww-awww-awwwww!

[Repeat Hook over this part]

Them country boys

With them big fat wheels

Peep the vertical grills

And awwwwwwww!

Them country boys

With them big fat wheels

Peep the vertical grills

And awwwwwwww!

[Repeat]

Them country boys on the ride!

With them big fat wheels on the side!

Peep the vertical grills on the ride!

And aw-awww-awww-awwwww!

Them country boys

With them big fat wheels

Peep the vertical grills

And awwwwwwww!

Nappy Roots P.O.N.

[Skinny DeVille]

Classic 2000 and forever…

[Hook-Skinny DeVille]

At first you don’t succeed, try it all again

I’d die ‘fore I quit, so indeed I’ma win

‘Til the fat lady sing the last note in the hymn

Don’t worry ’bout me, I’ma grind ’til then

[repeat]

[Skinny DeVille]

They say fame is like cheers, where everybody knows your name

Success at any level has a feel I can’t explain

You win some, you lose, it’s on how you play the game

But you gotta know the rules and these dues are insane

If you make it to the top, congrats, good for you

You don’t have to sell drugs, you can do it through school

You can make it by your damn self, it’s better with yo’ crew

But choose your team wisely, don’t pick a bunch of fools

You gotta motivate, through ya hate infested lakes

Maneuver through the snakes and the sharks, white and great

They was with you from the start, is always what they say

Watchin’ every step along the way that you take

Nobody’s perfect, see we all gon’ make mistakes

Ya live and ya learn, fast life, pump the brakes

Last night’s not today, and right now’s not tomorrow

Livin’ for the moment, then you’re time’s already borrowed

[Hook]

At first you don’t succeed, try it all again

I’d die ‘fore I quit, so indeed I’ma win

‘Til the fat lady sing the last note in the hymn

Don’t worry ’bout me, I’ma grind ’til then

[repeat]

[Fishscale]

Yo, uh, my story

Fishscale bumpin, murderville jumpin

Must be a wrap ’cause I’m ballin’ up somethin’

Packin’ up my bags in the old Chevrolet

And if they ask where I’m goin’ tell em

Bringin’ it back to the A

State trooper got me, beat me like Rodney

Left the big city, turned a Saint like Shockey

Didn’t have much but what the good Lord could spot me

Ask me where I’m goin, say

I’m bringin’ it back to the A

Music stop sellin’, friends start bailin’

I’m failin’ everything, not to mention I’m a felon

My cousin doin’ time and I don’t know what I should tell him

‘sides “Keep ya head up, cuz”

I’m bringin’ it back to the A

Small town country boy, big city dreamer

Double-wide trailer, pickup truck and a Beamer

Tunnel vision driver, honk your horn if you see us

If you wonder where I’m goin bruh

I’m bringin’ it back to the A!

[Hook]

At first you don’t succeed, try it all again

I’d die ‘fore I quit, so indeed I’ma win

‘Til the fat lady sing the last note in the hymn

Don’t worry ’bout me, I’ma grind ’til then

[repeat]

Nappy Roots Panic Room

[Intro: repeat 4X – quietly, then louder]

Everybody to the panic room

C’mon, everybody to the panic room

[Chorus: repeat 2X]

{You may try to stop my song}

{But my flow is way too strong}

(Crazy!) Everybody to the panic room

(Crazy!) C’mon, everybody to the panic room

[Verse 1]

Yo, everybody to the panic room

C’mon, everybody to the panic room

Yeah we got bitches in the panic room

They givin out digits in the panic room

While the deejay playin I’ma get in tune

Turn it up louder and the planet boom

The country boy back and the planet’s doomed

The band’s in tune, your plan is doomed

The hardhead niggaz’ll be dancin soon

All the good liquor that you can consume

The panic room, get’cha seat back right

And your chair tipped up cause we landin soon

[repeat 3X]

One, two, three, four (c’mon)

Everybody to the panic room

[Chorus]

[Verse 2]

Yo! I’m off the chain like Gucci, looka there Mane

Keep it grain with the pure, take a toast of the pain

I’m goin “Crazy” like Cee-Lo Green

Fresh J’s, Aviator shades, Gino green glow

Ooh, all across the land we go

In the last several months on the Earth I know

At least a half dozen fools tried to stop my flow

Fuck ’em all, multiply that by fo’

Then add a hundred mo’ tryin to watch my dough

Triple that, add 50, now watch me blow

New situation every stop we rock

Some heard it was over and they thought we flopped

Nappy Roots is forever, shit ain’t gon’ stop

There won’t be another year that we ain’t gon drop (nope)

Holla at’cha boy, but it ain’t no talk

Tryin to halt what I’m doin, watch the Glock go.. {BLAM}

[Chorus]

[repeat 8X]

One, two, three, four

[after 3rd and 7th:] Everybody to the panic room

[after 3rd and 7th:] C’mon, verybody to the panic room

[Chorus]

[Outro]

{You may try to stop my song}

{But my flow is way too strong}

(Crazy!) {The beat goes on}

(Crazy!) {The beat goes on}

Everybody to the panic room

C’mon, everybody to the panic room

Everybody to the panic room

C’mon, everybody to the panic room

{You may try to stop my song}

{But my flow is way too strong}

(Crazy!) {The beat goes on}

(Crazy!) {The beat goes…}

Nappy Roots These Walls

Hmmmmmmmm

Well, well, well, well

[Chorus]

These walls are closin’ in

How long I’m supposed to grin

I lost my will to win

Forgive my sin, hmmmmmmmmmm

These walls are closin’ in

How long I’m supposed to grin

I lost my will to win

Forgive my sin, hmmmmmmmmmm

As darkness approaches

And I’m fumbling through the blunt roaches

Its looking hopeless, totally unfocused

Stumbling onto the front porch

Poasty with my closest associates

We were so broke

Though a couple of us had sold dope

Still humble enough to be po’ folk

We coming up to be grown folk

Ain’t dumb enough to be slow poke

Though the hours of death they grow close

So we give our lives to the utmost, Plus

Here’s an extra point

Visualize the gold post

No we not eating duck roast

But we live our lives to the utmost, Cause

Those pressure points

Are the corners we cut close

Turn most civilized

Yaggers to cutthroats

And it’s these men they send

up state by truck load

And hurl ’em in to the pin like buffalos

I’m saying

[Chorus]

The game was sold, not told to me

Heartache won’t let go of me

Games say that I’ll live and lie

But I’ll trrrrryyyyy

Every which way tell you the angles

I done tossed and turned

Hit and missed

Pissed cause of that didn’t amount to this

Getting it ain’t got a damn thing to do with keeping shit

Working damn hard to get it

Plans and not parting with it

Life got a way of showing you shit

you can’t barely see

Tough keeping close

Setting sail through a sea of g’s

Something should this night I lay me down to sleep

Wasn’t happy with my friend

Pray the lord my soul to keep

[Chorus]

I’m ’bout 3000 miles from Graceland

By the county from Macon

But you would think I’m arm reach from Satan

I got a strange way of telling the truth

Most felons do stuff between

Hearin your story and telling it too

Stuck between nom and feelin it

Right between calm and militant

On the search for deliverance

Im three days from beatin my case at the arraignment

This shits basic

Get the (?) get the statement

[R. Prophit]

Part with the heart of a soldier

Right now I’m stuck behind bars with daddy told ya

I chose to march with martin carryin posters

They lock me down, but they usually hang us folks up

We so tough, white man trying to control us

And mold us, simulate our cultures, they doped us

Hell naw I’m stayin focused

I won’t corrupt with evil

Forever fightin for my people, equal

Fight for you rights

These walls are closing in

How long I’m supposed to grin

I lost my will to win

Forgive my sin..

Ladies and gentlemen I have some very sad news for all of you

Could you lower those sings please?

Martin Luther King was shot and was killed tonight..

Nappy Roots Light & Dark

[Intro – Big V]

Music, music, music (the blowin of the wind)

If you ever think about it you walk in the rhythm

(The flap of a bird’s wings, calms the savage beast)

Your whole life is a beat (the cries of a baby)

Soothes, the baby sleeps (the mirrors and expressions of your life)

Emotion (life is a song, a beat, a tempo)

Christ our Savior, adrenaline (adjusted by a situation)

Inspiration, that’s music (and that’s us)

Here we go

[B. Stille (Anthony Hamilton)]

Yup, that’s what I’m talkin about right there (gotta be)

You just can’t get that, nowhere but this

Ya know what I’m sayin, this is classic shit

C’mon (Whoaaaaaa)

[Verse 1 – B. Stille]

Groove to the bassline, slap that snare drum

It’s music to ya eardrum, snap these back

We ain’t goin nowhere hun, keep on dancin

From the mud to the mansion, imagine that

Back rubs, get the body oils, pass me that

Hot tubs, sit yo’ ass in that

And only music this good, could make ’em act like that

So just do it (listen to it), this is a classic track

It’s like music

[Chorus 2x – B. Stille (Anthony Hamilton)]

In the light, in the light

In the dark, in the dark

(Got to be music)

In the soul, in the soul

(Got to be music)

In ya heart, in ya heart

(Got to be music)

To the end, to the end

From the start, from the start

(Got to be music)

Good music (All I know)

[Verse 2 – Skinny Deville]

Aww man, I’m in the zone again, caught up in the whirlwind

And I’m, tryin to make a decision before the whole damn world ends

When, days turn into nights man and burn for twice as long

Cause when my pen brushes the pad with an art form that microphones

And every county ‘cross the nation, every house and every basement

Hustlers on street corners live by a beat that’s constantly changin

The one thing stays basic, Nappy Roots ain’t nothin to play with

Every move is practicin patience, perfectly pacin, how to stay blatant

My sole reason for existence is for all my folks to be a witness

To the movement of this music that this group put out for centuries

And has a life of it’s own and prolly gon’ take on some different identities

Now who’d a thought we make it happen with this rappin in this industry?

Yup

[Chorus]

[Bridge – Anthony Hamilton]

Shot up in my bones (shot up in my bones)

Deep in my soul (deep in my soul)

From head to toe, whoaaaaa

Shot up in my bones (shot up in my bones)

Deep in my soul (deep in my soul)

From head to toe

[Verse 3 – Big V]

Lots of songs, lots of sounds

Bookoo fan, lots of towns

Good and bad time, farewells and makin up

Even feet hurt in the rhythm that run with walkin off

Fights in the club, lullabies to a newborn

Jazz softly enhances gettin grooves on

Tears in a funeral, brought on by a sad song

After Biggie’s “One More Chance” who was ugly doin?

Sade made me wanna do it in the rain

R. Kelly had me rentin cars to do it in the Range

Breathin is a beat tempo adjusted by adrenaline

Situations, thankin God for the situation

[Chorus]

[Bridge – Anthony Hamilton]

[Outro – Anthony Hamilton]

Said it got to be music

Deep in my soul

Got to be music

Said it can’t be nothin, nothin, nothin, nothin, nothin, nothin else