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Beats Like This Lyrics - Artist : Evidence
[Montage One:]
Beats like this bring sets together Leather coats and calicoes, Crips, Bloods and afro picks Takin' money out gangster flicks Projects worldwide two-step to this I'ma rep what this is: straight nigga shit Like a Benz on an AMG kit, with a fitted on the cell Two feet is one step from jail Pushing weight through Nevada, God bless the scale This kinda song, calibration, my digital matrix Expose y'all niggas like the wig on a fake bitch It takes this kinda beat to bring it out And single out the mark niggas, scared of dark niggas Find me in the park, nigga, with the dark niggas I'll pull that kinda rank I'm all L.A. like coppin' bean pies in front of Lincoln Bank And gettin' chicken from Louisiana, think I ain't? [Evidence:] Real gangstas can't rap, real rappers ain't gangstas In most cases, backwards ain't it My girl argue, she said, "This one's tight" I'm like, "He's real, but he's alright" E-V that deal, 'til he old and I'll 'Til he over the hill, won't quit 'til it's over a mil Shoulda been last year, still Hit your goal, start another one, I'll Quantize got my drum all lined up Some rhymers ain't concerned with timin' I don't ask for reminders And never ever did well in silence I couldn't sleep two hours to get to rest I heard the voice in my head too loud, I guess Nothin' proud of layin' in bed Waitin' for sun up over your head [Mitchy Slick:] Ev, who gon' stop me? I shot up at his corner While the rest of the homies switched, I went to mail in Arizona I'm in the set, hangin' out with baseheads, gettin' it Sparked up the fumes, addicted from whippin' it This summer, on me, big homie got smashed Federalis trip, got his kids and they kicked out his pad No talkin' on the phone 'bout what I do 'Cause conspiracy's the easiest crime to prove On juice and a blunt 'fore I make my first thou-wow Authentic kicks, yeah, the hard-to-see reptile Hood fabulous, grow house in the backyard All the little homies want a sack from the trap star Couple grams over, give a fuck, 'cause a homie love Put it on the plate, hard or soft, they gon' buy it up Front it to the homies when they fresh out needin' it No rap success yet, all I got for 'em is weed and fences [Big Twin:] People always sayin', "Why is Twin so mad?" (Why?) His daughter just died and his brothers got bagged (Fuck) Economy is down, and the rich is gettin' richer Four corner war, dunn, you get the big picture? Now I'm on some shit, strap up the AK See me on the block, I got an ounce of that purple haze Throw it down heavy, IM3 deadly The heat that I hold, them shit's be heavy Shit so big they'll crack your skull piece There's no peace, that's how it is in my hood And, niggas wanna give me what they wish they could It's all good, pop off, nigga, you should [Diz Gibran:] My only competition is time Tired of them weak raps, ease back and listen to mine What you hearin' now is Diz in his prime, the perfect prototype Model to follow, no glitch in design Dangled a little payout, got the fish on the line No intention to phase out why I stick to my grind It's just a mission of mine, it's well within reach Substance in the city where beauty is only skin deep I dig deep, lay you shallow niggas six feet Very little means still on how to make the ends meet I speak what I live, reap what I give out Bodybag beats, it's nothin' to put a hit out Rhyme like I've been out and ride 'til I spin out Life behind bars, no chance that I'll ever get out The kid's about honor and love Women and dollars, parties and pub, all the above [Styliztik Jones:] From embryo to O.G., it's the same function Jumped in the life full of gang injunctions No fame for the bang that's bumpin' Watch out for the strangers dumpin', this is angle lumpin' All up in your head when the danger's comin' Squeeze the trigger so hard, feel the pain in your stomach And I can't blame y'all for my own survival So I stay with my homies like the 12 disciples Knowin' one day, haters might test my righteous And I don't wanna check my rifle Knowin' that everybody die, that's the cycle that life go I recycle the blunt, keep my eye on my life goals My brother got life in Pelican Bay So I'm looking at the pelicans, inhaling my haze This is Styliztik Jones, all the monsters know me And my brother Saint Eagle next to Monster Cody, nigga [Krondon:] Mind boggling, the effort a man put forth when he has no options To my fans on the 'net, blogging Beware of the fake, take creed, caution Pre-destined for pure stardom It's a pre-requisite to be Marvin, huh Mr. Slow Flow's style I'm borrowin' No dough, then don't call him Weatherman forecast, rainstorm, cats and dogs Either a couple or a patch of fog What he deeds past back or fall The truth only hurts to those who work and ain't sure Of the roots planted deeply, roots don't get nervous Get ready for the devil, settle in for the service Krondizzle don't have to pack pistols But still keep a chrome Mac full of instrumentals [Rakaa Iriscience:] I knew brown Crips and Bloods and Black sureños Trini gangs in a tapered khakis but they still would bang, though Punks with stolen gigs, hard enough to hang, though Asian gangs with straight A's but they worked the angles Born in the '70s, the '80s raised me Reaganomics made 'em richer, almost made me crazy Desensitized, numb, what it takes to phase me Nothin' less than my fam beneath daisies Pure wilderness, try not to get killed in this When hard times spread, it's easy to feel villainous They think bullets are fly, 'til bullets fly Never learned to fist-fight, quick to pull that fire But young man, understand, you're just a pawn Ocean, seven seas in the world, this just a pond Your leadership started alright but led you wrong Pride and power without heat, that's what I'm on [Crooked I:] Crooked, I ain't tough, I ain't hard I'm just hangin' out of my car shootin' your front yard up Play the cards I was dealt, we call it hard luck Play with my change and I'm lifting your boulevard up Now tell the cops that I chopped up your residence If they ain't from Dilated, they ain't got Evidence You know what I represent, Long Beach If I don't say it in every verse, then that's negligence I shit on mics, I fertilize the booth, I verbalize the truth Just to convertible-ize the coupe I circumcise the roof, a certified murder rider I murdalize you goofs, yeah My big balls help me earn cash I sit in coach while my nuts fly first class, yeah And all you hoes that'll learn fast I never trust a nice perm and a firm ass |
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