Stu Bangas - Bosses lyrics

[Verse One] [Akir]: This right here is to pay homage To all the forefathers who taught us that talent get you farther than revolvers It's an honor to be here Especially surrounded by this garbage They made to steadily try to bombard us They gettin zooted on they own stardust I'm suited up like Spartacus, back up on my rebel army sh** Strapped up, full of clips, back up, hear them spit Flame cannons doin' damage, can you manage harder hits? This is that honor sh**, all my n***as that started this We do it from the heart with this The industry try to starve the kids And make our music so hard to flip Promotin' for opponents To lock the kids up in them bars to clip h*mo celebs stickin dick in male orifices Instead me and Reef runnin up in your offices So cut all your losses, kids We burnin down the industry n***a you next, we wanna know who the bosses is [Verse Two] [Reef The Lost Cauze]: In this day and age my wrath is like a plague I married this b**h, y'all n***as is still engaged The reason I came - what the game now needs in its veins This is our season of reign, I'm releasin' your reins I respect you, yeah, you got a rep, true But I done put in my time, homie, I'm a vet, too Not a pet doc, you heard what I said, pops I'm young and hungry, old head, you'll get your head chopped I know better, I spit harder and flow better We open for yo old a** and rip the show better When it comes to music I give you props for what you did, not what you're doin All I'm sayin is y'all need to fall back Same faces been around for years, now they all wack I'm that bold with it, I'm that cold with it Been spittin since '88, I'm that old with it So f** you old critics, keep your lips locked You did your thing with it, but dog, you don't own hip-hop f** you old critics, keep your lips locked You did your thing with it, but you don't own hip-hop [Verse Three] [K-Beta]: f** you old critics, we ain't here to share with y'all Just sit your old a** down and drink some Geritol f** you old critics, we ain't here to share with y'all Just sit your old a** down Low tolerance, it makes no kinda sense Common attempts to show dominance The whole lot went along with it With a collective middle finger to all critics Get a perspective, why these kids receptive To what goes over your head - live and let live That's right - over your head, not beneath you See, it's you seekin' that which don't seek you They don't need you to know who's cool Refuse to play by the old school rules Old school blues, the newest sounds Grate the ears of old folks losin ground Hate to hear what provokes dudes who hear it And get a injection of youthful spirit Whether or not the message will astound or move you We gets down with or without approval And thick crowns on the heads of new kings Broke tradition, ready to do things This way better than that way, the past way a rap way Past the last day sadly A trap may lie behind, seein me is more Than a prize, a choice between 3 doors