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Correct Courtesy Lyrics
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Artists: D
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DJ Premier
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Correct Courtesy
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Lyrics:
Yeah where the other one at I like this one Just let it go Preem ZL6 'vette, gripping feeling almost there Listening to Bon Jovi, rolling 'Living on a Prayer' Privy to the gossip, that's what's said about me constant It's the life and times of Bumpy Johnson meets Nucky Thompson I used to rap about death, now I'm only concerned to live I value relationships, still I keep it competitive Nowadays chances are that if you see me throw the match It ain't to lose the fight, it's to walk away from a burning bridge I'm from a family of alcoholics and coke addicts Daddy taught me if the ass is so fat it's a fact That if you with your ho, don't matter it's still appropriate to scope at it Living life with no balance, driving drunk on co-pilot Driving 'till I total it I'm trying to stay afloat, but I got nobody to throw a rope at it The game is just a game of splits and politics with no ballot All kind of clips with mo' malice than Pusha If you profiling, it's probably be more violence than looking I'm so stylish, but I ain't talking eBay, no high end fashion either If you catch me by the runway it's the one that's for the PJ This one is for my lyricists - courtesy of my DJ (I can't control it, can't hold it, it's so nuts) (Hustle hard in any hustle that you pick) (I respect that) I done had a lot of niggas say they wanna hurt me Somehow, some way they just end up in my mercy Just show some courtesy (Hell yeah, nigga you know, niggas still got it) (Believe that shit) I got killas 'round the way ready to move that work for me Niggas wanna ride my wave, bitches wanna surfboard me All I want is courtesy, who cares about the radio? And you can take the cassette deck from off your old boombox And it wouldn't matter It still squares on your radio to keep your wealth I learned to stay to yo - self I call for Shantelle to spray paint a mural in Watts Of me spray painting a mural of miracle Watts Shoutout to Michael 5000 Watts I'm on than lean movement like I'm out here tryna box Look, nigga, this is a boss thing, uh Meaning you getting the laze dot to your offspring I'm a lost being, uh Try to cross me without falling off, I'm afraid not I'm a frayed knot like a draw string I'm preaching to the congregation like I'm Peter Popoff If you can imagine Me hopping up out of the cabin like I'm one of the Dukes of Hazzard Like fuck it, leave the top off like time for foreplay That last line that was before ya time Like Big Ben sitting in Beyoncé doorway While I'm receiving Four Seasons, Norwegian top in Norway Listening to rappers kick knowledge That they probably got from Torae These Michael Eric Dyson niggas claiming they king Not knowing the kind of drama that that bring Imma be the first established rapper to hop in that battle rap ring Turn that to gatling My next album gon be so dark and so fly I should CD package it wrapped in batwings The Soul Train Music Awards actors rock fake as wrestling Dressed bottom to top in leather looking like bacon in Vaseline How you looking like beef jerky, beefing in every verse But never beefing in person? Randy Savage You wouldn't snap a slim Jim You wouldn't rip a wrapping on Christmas in Santa's attic With the hands of Eddie Scissors, ain't you average? Put your motherfucking hands up My job is to move the crowd, move the motherfucking crowd Put your motherfucking hands up I respect that, Prime
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