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lirik lagu statik selektah – ain’t too much to it

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[intro: conway the machine]
statik selektah
look, look, look

[verse 1: conway the machine]
raw in the pot, bakin’ soda, i’m on my fourth box
whip it ’til my wrist sore
youngin’ still wanna sniff more and kick doors
he don’t wanna get rich, he wanna show you what his fifth for
i know why these n~ggas p~ssed off
’cause my kicks twelve hundred, smellin’ like cookies in the kith store
don’t give a f~ck, a n~gga five~two or six~four
i get ticked off, two~piece him and wire his jaw
a n~gga violate, he gotta die, it’s law
i make a g call and n~ggas get off
bape tiger, wraith rider
catch them n~ggas that was talkin’ and burn ’em with ak fire
i don’t know how bein’ a runt feel
knew he was already slumped, f~ck it, i emptied out the drums still
low top, the semi’s with the lock on ’em
green light, if you get the drop on ’em, machine

[chorus: ab~soul]
’cause it ain’t too much it (it ain’t too much to it)
it ain’t too much to it (it ain’t too much to it)
nah (nah), lil’ smoke, lil’ fluid (lil’ smoke, lil’ fluid)
it ain’t too much to it (it ain’t too much to it)
nah (nah), it ain’t too much to it (it ain’t too much to it)
it ain’t too much to it (it ain’t too much to it)
if you knew better, then you’d do it (b~tch)
it ain’t too much to it (it ain’t too much to it), nah
[verse 2: bun b]
started hustlin’ durin’ bush senior, got rich by obama
ran up in them traps with them straps, like they came for osama
so when the pressure got applied, we ain’t run from no drama
just give us what we came for, i get the stick to your—
now, look, man, i am a gangster, not a criminal or a crook, man
and i can take it hard or soft, ’cause i can cook, man
so when the king gets k!lled and only the rook stand
i’ll be knockin’ on your door for your bread like bookman
and you’ll be florida, so come on outside into this corridor
and give me that paper or meet the coroner
i ain’t warnin’ you, you know my modus operandi
just give up the d~mn pie or you, him, and your man die
and i ain’t takin’ it from you, you finna give it to me
’cause the only way that you’re leavin’ here livin’ is through me
now matter fact, take off the jewelry and the shoes
i need that iced~out cuban link and them chicago 2s, now run it

[chorus: ab~soul]
’cause it ain’t too much it (it ain’t too much to it)
it ain’t too much to it (it ain’t too much to it)
nah (nah), lil’ smoke, lil’ fluid (lil’ smoke, lil’ fluid)
it ain’t too much to it (it ain’t too much to it)
nah (nah), it ain’t too much to it (it ain’t too much to it)
it ain’t too much to it (it ain’t too much to it)
if you knew better, then you’d do it (b~tch)
it ain’t too much to it (it ain’t too much to it), nah
[verse 3: ab~soul & westside gunn]
ayy, man, i ain’t gotta do sh~t, but stay black and die
tryna get rich as a motherf~cker and stay flygod (boom, boom, boom, boom)
i’m from the westside, guns are like eyeb~lls (grr)
let’s face it, there’s always a couple rounds, like datin’
unc’ had the six~tres on daytons, he used to specialize in beatin’ cases
detectives pull up, no prints, no gloves
just a john doe and a pair of gary paytons
good times, if y’all ballin’, then i’m on the wrong court
you david and goliath’s only five~foot~nine
but you ain’t bring your slingshot this time
so you don’t want a problem at all, lil’ guy
nah, that’s how the f~ck you make a long story short
no need to read between the lines, don’t be a slave to a clock
bust it down or keep it plain jane
in time you’ll find, it’ll all come back the same thing, just watch
one minute you circlin’ the block
n~ggas catch you off your square, the next minute you in a box

[outro: ab~soul]
oh, the beat really stopped
i kind of needed a snare or another one of them kicks
or somethin’ right there
what’s up with this n~gga statik, man?
ayo, let me hear that sh~t back real quick


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