Letra de canción descargada de: https://www.albumcancionyletra.com ------------------------------------------ Smackola - Salt shakahz ------------------------------------------ Now it ain't too late For y'all to rumble with the heavyweight Get a date time and place We can set it straight I feel the hate like a skinhead Nazi Coming through Smackola Body Head Kamikazi I'ma let you know now we on some dangerous ground With some dangerous sound And my style is way foul It could be me or you My crew or your crew But its all on you So what you gon do We could take it to the stage for a showdown Take ten paces turn around And I'ma show you how it go down Feel the flow now but you're scared of competition You're mad But you wishin you was in my position Stop look listen Before you even start spittin Just cause you rappin Don't mean your shit be hittin With them hype ass beats that you hide behind While I write rhymes to keep y'all rewinding mine Line after line And my shit keeps bumpin You're talkin loud but your boys really aint said nothin And you frontin so hard that your shit sounds reversed Unrehearsed Plan of action Unresearched And even the worst be the shit you kick in your verse Talkin bout you gonna bomb But we bomb first Hit the dirt Cause I know you're scared and unprepared Talkin about battlin but you don't want to go there That be the motto in the year 2g And everywhere you go to flow They gonna mention me Consider me the enemy of wack mcs You can take it how you want it But whats it gonna be Nigga show me Take time Combine your rhymes You're still hatin But the main one recitin my lines Actin like you got love when you see me at shows But behind closed doors Man I already know that you a salt shaka Now you claim you got heat But nigga talk is cheap And if you charge it to the game You better keep a receipt Niggas want to battle me but I can't be beat They try to compete but still can't stand defeat So peep the game As I heat the flame Because half of y'all cats still sound the same You need to make a change cause you look and sound like clones With that same old same same slang on microphones And I'm a let it be known about my time and patience Take one look at your album and call out the violations And name more than 5 But you keepin it real Now am I really supposed to think nigga you got skills Come on now But you the pimp you the baller Mister big rap star There's only one real scholar Don't even bother crucifying me with ya choppers I'ma leave MCs with the signs of stigmata Break em off proper Now where your clique be at Now really what made you think you could fuck with Smack Take an ex lax Your raps sound constipated Said your shit was gonna drop but we been constantly waiting Now you're constantly hating Cause Im stacking my paper With the skills and techniques to take it major And you's a 3rd grader on Sesame Street Trying to sound out your vowels So you can catch the beat I got heat Feel me give me props or pop collars If you ain't got one to pop Then nigga start poppin dollars Holla after Rottweilers nigga Runnin up on your ass Wrote a hot ass check and now your ass can't cash it Got your brain data crashing Like you're trippin on acid Lookin pitiful Tryin to fade the unfadeable Killa flow But you don't hear me though Salt shaka