Let That Thang Go - T-Bone I'm trying to change this music, my nizzle It's official, I'm tired of hearing heaters that whistle and sizzle when gangstas pull out they pistols I'm like money trying to get in the middle and settle the difference Cuz too many rappers is tripping, don't nobody wanna listen
Plus I'm tired of all the cussing and cursing So I started rehearsing working on converting a better version
For every person that's hurting lurking searching for life's purpose Feeling suicidal and worthless but you ain't certain If you ready to die and leave this earth's surface then cross over And see what's on the side of this life's curtain me Call the Moses of rap, taking it back to days tha when this artifact Wasn't bout the woman and gats I'm sick of this rap, matter a fact How many more women you find to pimp, and gangstas we gonna cap them We murdered all, Pac and Biggie there ain't here anymore
Better something, sound do the trumpet, cuz' I'm goin to war To all the playas popping off at the lip, oh Fronting the street game like you a pimp, no Ya coming up down but wit going tha ship, bro
Ya better let that thang go And all tha ladies that be shaking they hips, oh Up in tha strip clubs stacking em chips, no Top of tha world, but you down in tha pits, ma Ya better let that thang go It's the Nicaraguan son of Big Pun, who flip tongs
On kick drums, and leave rappers like victims from big guns Better panic, cuz I'm charismatic and automatic When it comes to this phonographic magic, I gotta have it
Like an addict, I'm the magnet pulling these Asiatic and Hispanics bandits To make em put down tha cannons, I'm standing for unity in rural communities
Filled with darkness and cruelty, where men get woman paid off of nudity It's soon to be all over, I crossover barriers of hate and racism plus I bring the Cross over I'm out to change all the images in our villages, and all the religious criticisms from church citizens Always pointing, judging, shrugging ya at shoulders the adulterers, fornicators, and cobras But never question our culture, Biggie prophesied ready to die 50 took 5 and got rich and Pac's mamma still crying To all the playas popping off at the lip, oh Fronting the street game like you a pimp, no Ya coming up but going down wit tha ship, bro
Ya better let that thang go And all tha ladies that be shaking they hips, oh Up in tha strip clubs stacking em chips, no Top of tha world, but you down in tha pits, ma
Ya better let that thang go Suckas surfing the internet trying to find kids for sex, and placing bets Credit card fraud is next, they write them checks for chicks on em porno flicks When they shake they hips sick wit them chain and whips it gets Even worse, truth hurts, don't be mad at me, I ain't the one getting paid enhancing they anatomy And gradually, they rotten out like bad cavities, then periodically prostituting and armed robberies
This how we raise the little children of America to grow up and be criminal, rapist, and bomb terrorist
From the second they're born, innocent but torn Between these 2 worlds fighting for souls, like tug a war Who's keeping score got juveniles in the morgue, while killas winning awards And steady and praising the Lord, they cheer and roar Ego tripping has gotta stop, gotta shine and rhyme in his name instead of hip-hop To all the playas popping off at the lip, oh Fronting the street game like you a pimp, no Ya coming up but going down wit tha ship, bro
Ya better let that thang go And all tha ladies that be shaking they hips, oh Up in tha strip clubs stacking em chips, no Top of tha world, but you down in tha pits, ma Ya better let that thang go
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Ya better let that thang go And all tha ladies that be shaking they hips, oh Up in tha strip clubs stacking em chips, no Top of tha world, but you down in tha pits, ma Ya better let that thang go