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lirik lagu nariz - kick green records

kick green records

ooh baby i got sole. laced up. i ain’t tripping. yeah
i got grails on ice to my fitting
can’t take the heat? then best be getting up out the kitchen
i’m fresh up in this thang with my shoe game is kicking. uh
yeah. gave two f-cks bout what was on my feet
back when i was stuck, writing rhymes. making beats
got them vans on. yeah, they look like sneakers
but nothing compares to my adidas
i got them filas. i rock the pumas
i got them reeboks. high socks. then it soon was
phat farms. remember those? it ain’t no rumor
i went from retail to reselling on consumers
wasn’t like that though way back before high school bro
mama hit the payless. wasn’t stressing what she buy us though
best believe, didn’t own a pair of nikes yo
until i felt the need to wanna be like michael jordan
huaraches they got me into them js. yeah
shout out to les. blessing me to the game
can’t forget twon. my mans put me on the set. much respect. i rep the check strong
bet! different numbers. i got different colors
early sat-rdays, drop a couple hundreds
sparking my fascination faster than when i spark it up and blaze it
i’m feeling quite amazing. can’t really explain it
coming off a three and a half year vacation from tasting
arrangements that’ll lift you off the pavement
always on that dank sh-t. if you speak my language
spark up conversation. verbal with the herbals
breaking down a eighth quick like it ain’t sh-t
taking great hits til it gets low. re-up more
i remember being fourteen. puffing greens with my brother chachi for the first time right outside the grado. yo, it got me on a different high that i never felt before
went inside, sat on the floor laughing. watching chappelle show. fasho
this was back in 03’ when nosy got his name from anthrop
31 wasn’t on ya man’s thoughts
off the pot til 05’ when 31 came alive from blunt running the vibe with all types of strains and strange people from all walks of life
the ganja’s like music. some don’t review it and don’t like it
to each’s own. i don’t trip. lit in my zone
homegrown no more. i pick it up from the store. yo
blow my dough on blowing dro
split it. pack it. l!ck it. bic it. multi-wrap b-tch. watch me roll
used to dab, but now i don’t really f-ck with wax except the ones that i scratch on these tracks
matter fact, let me f-ck this sh-t up when i get on the cuts
listen, dj sir a finna bust on the tables and the system erupts when the kick and the sub hit
i’m spending enough of my chip on this minty vinty
down to the used ones costing fifty cent
many men and women studying the mix and blend
no serato. looking at the 360 spin
representing y’all who be f-cking with me
behind the ones and twos. controlling the party moves
shout out to dj what. the first to put me on the tools
introduced me to early house music, drum and b-ss, jungle, hardcore, and different types of grooves. ooh
can’t talk about records and sh-t and i didn’t give a shout out to the homie dj chris
egyptian lover to arabian prince. old school to the kid but been cool ever since
hit amoeba just to get your vinyls autographed
i would meet ya after vocals final on a track
shout out selecta sista q. 45s. reggae tunes. dude, you put me on to all of that
you can find me spinning with the greats anytime after spending hours digging through the crates at canterbury, atomic and poobah
they keep me humble, but strive on getting my record put up at the record jungle like that

aww yeah. you can find me mobbing through the beat swap meet with some fresh -ss 1s and a fat blizzle boy

kick green records

- lirik lagu nariz

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