Hip Hop is Dead Freestyle by BBC Radio (Ft. Ghetts, Nolay & P Money)
Hip Hop is Dead Freestyle by BBC Radio (Ft. Ghetts, Nolay & P Money)

Hip Hop is Dead Freestyle

BBC Radio & P Money & Nolay & Ghetts * Track #3 On Fire in the Booth Cypher

Hip Hop is Dead Freestyle Lyrics

[Verse 1: Ghetts]
My baby mother says I'm immature
She four years younger, what the fuck she think I'm with her for?
She told me get the hell out, I'm packing, I need a minute
Hold on, you say you want me gone, so who you cookin' dinner for?
Mmm, that looks good, I'm staying
When I said you weren't a good cook, I was playing
Come here, give me that good good, what you saying?
Don't tease me, let me push my hood all the way in
Sometimes, I wanna argue for the make up sex
Need it in the morning, or I spend the whole day upset
If I'm the man of your dreams, then you should wake up wet
I'm surprised not one of our neighbours really hate us yet
Whoa, yeah, they say the walls have ears, babe
There's four walls and they all can hear, babe
Whoa, I say the ceiling has feelings
It must be lean, cuh the smoke's right beneath it

Weed, so loud
I just hope these walls can keep a secret
Even though there's no award for the speechless
I walk the walk, and ruin floors with my sneakers
Normal procedures, late night studio
Ordering pizzas, Jerome should be over the moon
What the fuck's he complaining about?
It should feel like it's a privilege recording this G shit
Book an appointment with a nail technician
If you ungrateful motherfuckers wanna see tips
When I say I'm going ham
Fam, I don't mean E6
Wear my heart on my sleeve
Don't make me the weakest, it makes me the realest
Music's based on emotion, believe it
So this beat's getting the emotional treatment
I'm digging deeper than the average rapper
I see murders getting they ain't catch on the camera, right in front of me
A man getting stabbed in his bladder, right in front of me
Youts getting badder and badder, right in front of me
You wanna be the man in the manor? Good luck with that
You'll probably get killed by the same youts that looked up to man
Diced in the alley when police left
These kids'll leave a nigga lying in the street, dead
Sometimes it's like a Western in the East End
Grandad said if we ain't fighting with our fists then
We should be categorised as weak men
But, you see when everyone's got a strap 'cause-

[Verse 2: Bella Gotti (No-Lay)]
I know what these niggas want
They want a chain that swing and bitch in a thong
Money in the air and a jacuzzi on the lawn
Drugs, sex, rock and roll, they're dabbling in porn
Uh, don't you know it's fun
The man in the office want a raise and a promotion
He got a mistress, and a wife for the devotion
Hoping the affair runs smooth like lotion
His wife want a divorce, but he don't know of course
Till she fucks his boss and like to ride him like a horse
She gonna split with his money in the Porsche
And she greedy, so a little bit more
The hoes want the dick and the dogs want the kitty
The pimp want a prostitute to make his arse rich
The waiter want a tip, the alcoholic want a drink
And a playa wants his old bitch to take the hint
The sad want happiness, the shadow wanna follow
The singer at the shit gig wanna do Apollo
We all wanna live forever, so fuck YOLO
And, uh
The killer wanna murder, the victim wanna live
The greedy want more, and the generous wanna give
The penniless want a quid
And the flat chested lady want two double D tits

[Verse 3: P Money]
I'm smart because of my mother
If you put me in a category, make sure it's other
I ain't like these other rappers, I'm different
I don't approve of using words people used to use to make fun of my colour
While these other rappers were dissing and bredding each other
I was paying the rent, looking after bills and my brother
Got mother a four bed, climbing the property ladder
What have you done for your mother? That's right, nada
Base thicker than dumb and dumber
Sixteen lines were-

Yes, Charlie let me go again on this one
We like this
I didn't even rap, but I'm tryna sing
Send that to my grime dons though
OGz in the area, RIP NE
RIP Younger Kraver
Yeah, lemme go

I'm smarter because of my mother
If you put me in a category, make sure it's other
I ain't like these other rappers, I'm different
I don't approve of using words people used to use to make fun of my colour
While these other rappers were dissing and bredding each other
I was paying the rent, looking after bills and my brother
Got mother a four bed, climbing the property ladder
What have you done for your mother? That's right, nada
Base thicker than dumb and dumber
Sixteen lines were popping, I need another number
"I'm an original, I know where I'm from"
Okay, so why you pronouncing one hundred as one hunna?
See that shit makes my soul suffer
Baller which park, you're a toe punter
Same game, but famous for different reasons
I'm pitching in a field, this motherfucker is a home runner
See my enemies screaming that there's a storm coming
Tell 'em I said lightning ain't shit if there's no thunder
Bet me what, you're no punter with no hunger
And you're no hunter, you're full of bogey, you nose runner
I flow cold all year cause I don't know summer
I know my lines when it comes to clashing, I'm no fluffer
I'm in stitches, bitches claiming they don't need a father figure
Why you tryna holla to get to know poppa?
See I know about your haters, my brotha
A real brother clocks them all when he's on the come up
Wreck my house, and I'll wreck yours, I'll take any lover
I'll be screaming "hubba, hubba, hubba", if she's a stunner
I ain't as skinny as I used to be, I got the belly now
So mr chubba chubbs givin' her the chubba chubba
Met her at three, I was ready to stunt on the stunner
Made a move at 3:16 and stunted the stunner
There you go again acting like mister lover, lover
Yeah but P, I really love her, love her
Claiming you love each other but she's undercover
With another lover and she's about to reach for another rubber
I ain't gonna lie, I think we were made for each other
Cause she's a sucker for love, and I fuckin' love a sucker
Come on, how's she gonna reach for another rubber?
And that's your baby mother
Aah, I'ma-

Hip Hop is Dead Freestyle Q&A

Who produced Hip Hop is Dead Freestyle's ?

Hip Hop is Dead Freestyle was produced by ​will.i.am.

When did BBC Radio release Hip Hop is Dead Freestyle?

BBC Radio released Hip Hop is Dead Freestyle on Sat Sep 13 2014.

Your Gateway to High-Quality MP3, FLAC and Lyrics
DownloadMP3FLAC.com