Summer Of '89 - Sebastian lyrics

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Summer Of '89 - Sebastian lyrics

[Hook] Aye homie if you on the streets and I'm living in a mansion Just walk up to the gate And I'mma activate the hinges Eating with who I starved with Balling with who I balled with Won't stop We can rap our way up to the top [Verse 1: Jack CityZ] If money talks then uhhh He's talkin nonsense Com' sense says if it's worth work, I got this Not cents Nor the lochness in my pocket It's not rent sh**, enough to feed a hobbit College got a n***a digging through the garbage Looking through the mob and tryna find a dime Shrine to make a profit I'mma be fine Hustla's mind since age 9 If push comes to shove I'll rhyme to make mine The pressure and time And stressors from crime Rest on my spine Knowledge is power, so I rise from grape vines Through pavement, that's why I'm hated DMV native Created to deflate the hot heads of the latest I'm belated to the scene 16 seems to bring dreams One year older, same talent but different teams Overlooked like an open book by a tv screen You keeping up with my thoughts will get you lost in daydream I love the way I do it can't nobody out here change me I'm lazy, lanky b**hes older than 18 They bait me Date me Damn near try to rape me I'm not for falling hard My knees are scrape free No need to hate me But I'm heartless No problem I'll park a feeling at ocean's bottom And leave it there so scuba divers, and ocean monsters cry over comments I'm beyond it Don't give a f** 2 year old toddlers Mobster bu*ton down oxford Sunday's best posture Pish posh the nonsense High school or college In other words grow up I'm livin for a purpose Shoutout to workers, and street lurkers to get they dough up Row up against the current, so current public a**urance is so what? Giving no f**s about these "grown ups" We running round Rugrats No pockets dumb fat But find the lack of stacks contrast to the crap of bum rats The only slanging is my language Murder when I bust raps, so when I fall flat My karma mat will leave me unscratched No popularity, but the clarity of my bars is unmatched [Hook x2] [Verse 2: Ragz ba*tard] Spit it wit a sickness Grand master flash How I strike rhymes with a quickness My n***as we on a million dollar mission Got million dollar pistons In my Camero '86 edition With flames coming out the exhaust pipe Light this joint, lets Blaziken With this fire coming out my right Kaimira Stealth creeping silence in the night My light is bright I could blind ya main b**h on sight She on my jock like Helga Trifecta Legend of Zelda Show them the missing Link Between this Hyrule and fools This is the essence of the cool So relax and take notes While I take drags of this Buddha smoke Till I choke, and pa** to the bros Taking shots from above you land lovers I'm like the helicopter off Rambo GTA cheat code Unlimited ammo Just another young brother from the east Bringing beats that'll knock n***as of they feet I'm what n***as need in these streets sh** Just wait till a n***a get his own beats A yellow flash spark the brain to the 4th Power Will really test a mans worth But what's the worth? All in the hunt to become perfect A wordsmith Reciting rhymes until the final curtain And that's one thing that's for certain Bare burdens Attitude of virgins I'm sure you know the rest So I can cut it out like surgeons I know you know him King Kai got ya main b**h like how, Ron got Kim One of the finest spitting in my region It's survival of the fittest When the mic is in a upward position Fixing to beat Beats like Sonny Liston The definition of a hungering musician Bringing good music with the use of common sense I rhyme in past tense So that you'll get in in the present I'm heaven sent, and hell bent Crushing mere mortals mentals All over instrumentals... [Hook x2] [Verse 3: Al Newport] Same old rhymer just a different track I Spit a rap Y'all ain't getting slack with that chitter chat I stomp a track Illiterate rappers give that pitter pat Grip the microphone like chrome Then hit up your home I settle all my vendettas with those not chasing chedda I'm on your back like Metta With this piece, you'll be deceased Spitting rounds like Barretta I need an accomplice k** this lyrical nonsense Squares can't fit in my circumference Fibs are never said Like a rash, I'll turn that skin red Like Joe Gibbs More rhymes and less adlibs I'm mad sick It be that sly dude Who raps about Thai food Starting Pokemon be Raichu Catch the thunder like it's Raikou Spit a haiku That'll rival y'all idiots They'll preach my words like it's the Bible Bringing doom while I'm gripping on my ballskin Rap, rhyme often More balls than Mr. Boston [Hook x2]