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The Alchemist feat. Step Brothers, Action Bronson, Blu & Domo Genesis - Camp Registration lyrics

This what's on your mind (could it be) [x4]

The first rule of business to mind your own, too
'Cause it ain't hard to make a shit list, 'specially when the rhyming is through
I keep a distance, never been predicted
Never been a victim of many man defiling my moves
I keep a needle to the right, I keep my eye on the groove
Present the evidence and every single client is true
I'm out for getting it, not forgetting it
These are differences of different elements
Inside of the bull it's all you
Ride dirty, trance for a filthy, trench coat, white leather to the floor, milky
I kill a chinchilla and left the store guilty
The velvet was crumble, but the velour is silky
I crushed her like butter leathers on my futon
Toss the money like crouton, nigga perfect, gator boots on
With the new talk, rolling a new triple south central, dipping in continentals
Spend it quick and show up and kiss the instrumental
Self-sufficient like the candle whiskers
They know the drizz when they roll with blizz
Crack the tree, roll a sour D and the final leaf, follow me
I tell her how it be like it's how it is

This what's on your mind (could it be) [x4]

How the fuck you shit on a nigga who believes in himself?
' all my dreams, I had to see for myself
Even my family couldn't see what I felt
But they ain't stopped me, nigga watch me, watch your talking, I don't need any help
I'm creeping it, though, driving, improving
I'm nice to these nigga jiving, tryina provide 'em for all the whack raps you cats deprive 'em
I'm lying, I'm the epitome of the perfect time
And purpose writing got me surface riding, dog, it's perfect science
You should've walk high from the boat
We toss mimosas, had the show for pass me my coat
The date was over, I told her play the grown up you're supposed to
I would toss the G but it's just the G she knew
The corporate office, loft in the city, Boston and boss is biddy
I could've find a better bitch to Boston with me
We talking titties, yeah, we're talking titties
We talk bikinis, not Puerto Rican '
Part of me, I'm just thinking of the angles
I'm disconnected due to the friction on the cables
You flipped on me, switched the position on the tables
Surfing on a cloud, blowing kisses at the angels
I'm still out grinding, chasing a dream
Nights I slept with my face in the machine
Seven weeks same thermals in denim jeans
Dirty from the trenches, my record was never clean
I'm a front line soldier, when it's possible I spill blood
It comes with the territory, my boots carry mud
Scheming on the next young stallion that got us strutting
Somewhere in between too much and not enough
Damn, I still remember when I broke the roaches open
Now you see us floating on a boat and I
To say this was my dream would be a lie
But nowadays it seem to keep me in a beamer, breezing by
Nothing's forever, right? I don't know, man
I like this show for now, until they change the program
Since I've been one second old I've been a grown man
Showered in cologne and in my own land, old man

  • Year
  • 2013

  • Genre

  • Submitted
  • Jul 15, 2013

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#4 Daily Hip Hop/Rap

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