lirik lagu ransom, 3d na'tee & fred the godson - dying breed
[chorus] x4
i’ve done it all, have my cake now
[ransom]
i finally got the chance and now i’m living life
i’ve done it once before, that’s why i did it twice
achievin’ what y’all can’t believin’, i’m fiendin’ to get it right
i’m squeezin’ ’till we even, i’m bleedin’ screamin’ to get to christ
bars of the underworld, nine down the crouch
hold a beretta close under the leather coach
y’all n~ggas better hope i don’t revert to all my street tactics
the modern day sunny listings, listen whilе i defeat cashes
i’m undеrrated, understated, underappreciated
under the watch of them secret agents, i
it’s been 10 years and still i’m fighting for respect
i got the game hostage with a rifle to its neck
an b~st~rd in this life but a disciple in his death
so when i die, don’t gotta try ’cause i was michael in the flesh
jordan, jackson, hold up
i’m just paying homage to the grace that was before us
should have stayed in college i was waiting bagging dopers
now, i get acknowledged and they said i’m ’bout to blow up
the memoirs of a n~gga that been hard
these last 10 bars is as sharp as a gym star
i’m far from a gym star but i ball like omar owen
drug dealers getting rich ’cause they know that lamar owed them
huh, you know that these bars golden
the next to be in power, you know that the gods chose ’em
[chorus] x4
the last of a dying breed
[3d na’tee]
while b~tches be buying purses, i be buying he~rs~s
’cause i’m by these verses, i be nursing, sh~t, i be merkin’
and i’m been workin’, 12 years of slave to this rap game
mastered my craft, but still contemplate sh~t i bag game
’cause the game ain’t how biggie left it, or ‘pac left it
a big pun, so this slim as loc left it
rappers makin’ pop records, suck a c~ck to get to the top
i do not get it, it’s kind of pathetic
i’m kind of poetic, but that sh~t don’t get you justice
just this, feelin’ a villain i can’t be f~cked with
i’m just fit, come from a different fabric than maverick
i been graduated, f~ck makin’ a freshman clss list
you n~ggs calssist, and my n~gga, i’m classic
i’m not eclectic, but i spit to the masses
actin’, but i refuse to be tight casted
i’m laughin’, don’t like me, then kiss my ass then
imagine that there were more of us
then my soul said “just don’t let them get hold of us”
yeah, they notice us, even when they pretendin’ they don’t see it
i guarantee that they itunes got that latina sh~t
that 3d sh~t and they prolly won’t admit it
’cause my ass and my city, will neglect i got the lyrics freak
i was a dealer and i ain’t talkin’ bout filis
now i am a k!ller, so if we talkin’ the illest?
then you gotta mention me, bars like a penitentiary
coincidentally, i been schoolin’ since elementary
huh, i’m the illest in recent memory
so i guarantee when i finish you gon’ remember me
queen
[chorus] x4
the last of a dying breed
[fred the godson]
you see these rhymers? i’m bored like rodman
they got me ’round primadonnas, uh
i read the comments, what they writtin’ to me
my block n~ggas ain’t on in that thing, they ain’t the type to do it
rappers, they nervous, when they agree, my 3 cyphers
like i’m sharing at ’em, it ain’t me
i’m the last of the dying, i’m rappin’, rapidly firin’
wrinkles in my momma’s face, and i’m carrying iron
ragiddy flynn, beats, i burn them down
since i left, divin’ on horizon
since arrivin’, i’ve noticed the producers doin’ the most work
they introduce us as artist, still i can get you more furr
ransom, you know me, i’ll body this with the old verse
stay long here, like samson, we gettin’ long furr
i mean we cut from the same cloth
i stand, b~tches here like the rain cloth
i was told i was superman with the cape off
the coup da coup without pants, see, i can bake soft
bag the craft, whippin’ 2 pots at the same time
like i’m doin’ the cabbage patch
matter fact, fat boi fresh is bubblin’
i salute the shootas that’s left, like chris mallot
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