Southpaw - Rites of Pa**age lyrics

[Intro] Oh sh** yo, this block party is def Yo they got honeys, they breakin, they deejayin Yo, yo they even freestylin Yo Akir, yo c'mon, yo get 'em! [Akir] Well sometimes I rhyme slow, sometimes I rhyme quick Jumpsuits and fly kicks, Kangols with dope knits And of course, the freshest chick to complete, my outfit Cops be buggin out, so we split after we spit our hottest sh** My rhyme of reason cause a conflict Shorties catch attention with a blow-pop lick, and turn they bop with a twist Flick and throw the stick, havin me stiff I gotta get but scared to use it cause my parents still riff Music tradition, took knowledge, it cause friction in my livin Black, diction on a GT's throwin life too easy Front on my bike, like a CB, quarter waters And the folks doin 'ports what my first dude bought Game is a sport, Dominican, handball courts Hold a jiggy in my Jordan cause my day's too short Steady, holdin our fort, Washington, New York And all my visits is short, I still need the support [Hook: Akir] Aiyyo hip-hop, yo it runs in my veins Until the day my words no longer convey To the day my CD no longer plays, the crowd'll still be amazed Even then my name still gon' reign, yo Aiyyo hip-hop, yo it runs in my veins Until the day the music drives me insane To the day they drop me into the grave, the crowd'll still be amazed Even then my name still gon' reign... {*beat changes*} {*two men whispering to each other and spray-painting for 21 seconds*} [Akir] Yo, yo, he take a swig of raw Remy, creative juice loose Street smart, apple-shaped heart, Timberland boots Greg beat boost, chronic induced While my larynx short fuse, antagonize by a limited juice Tippin the ladders, bottle full throttle, time's gettin monotonous Through New York metropolis, runnin through chic populars Tired of makin sense/cents while my dollars don't work Broke but rock riches religiously, horses on shirts Catchin feelings for this rap sh**, every song hurts Connectin pieces of the puzzle in the struggle I learnt Everyone that I found, one either drowned or burnt Addicted to chicks, friction, herbals and tables that turned What is the sound of underground without, people around What is New York without, Uptown holdin it down I'm doin shows for no dough, reside beyond no do's And those are the flows with no way to expose it though [Hook] [Interlude: Akir talking to a club bouncer] Yeah, see it's bad from the startin (you can't cut up in here) Yo, I'm on the guest list (what's your name?) A.K.I.R. (you ain't on the list fam) f** is you talkin 'bout yo? (You ain't on the f**in list, get to the back of the line man!) n***a it's my motherf**in party! (I'll knock you little n***as the f** out!) {*beat changes again*} [Akir] Father Time is pa**in me by, the illegitimate child Masterpiece in music is torn, shout as a thug's wild Playas threw a wet one in, fillin heavens in the Benz And in my measurement, been on time to find the rest of it sh** ain't the same, life's no longer a game Uncle Penny-Bags rock through rags and platinum chains The clique name I boast up, taggin up, on a poster Owing these, smokin trees while we post up A young buck feelin old as f** Steady laughin at the world, pa**in the buck, still we stuck Sleep now, or forever die restless I fence with a number 2 pencil and indent kids