Leaf Erikson - Joy Rd.
(first verse Finale)Ok....
Lord Lord please help me now...
I'm cool with this shit, I'm an acquired taste
I'm one of the realest ones out here just to walk around the city, one thing I know, I ain't dyin'
fake
(Hmm) Let me talk cause we gon rap, pray for niggas, who get up whatever nerve is inside em
and go hop they rappin' ass right the fuck across whatever line I make
I redefined what for goodness sake meaning, slate clean, Living Single wit my Flavor Unit
workin', been over the Regine
Regime, a team is aliena-ting, making my way up out of they dreams, announce the Rumble like
I'm Mean Gene, we gone rap
Try my best to not get lost in all the pride and I confide in a few, Y'all like Zazu
Y'all can school the new crop of rappers on how to watch a King, salute the gatekeepers all the
great teachers stay fever, y'all ain't J Reacher
Take a haymaker to the face when y'all wanna hate the geezer, when I leave I need my name
on everything like Aretha
Now that I'm single women out here yelling he a keeper, stiff armin' em with the arms on Shiva
My soundtrack on Tela, she ain't workin' I don't need her, need a breather
Wanna kick it play some FIFA, either eat her....
(second verse --- Leaf Erikson)
(Or-ahhh) Explode like a 38 Spesh, this is Sprewell mixed with Nick Van Ex
Ambidex, right and left for versatility, killing spree, hired gun, free agent, no industry
Execute the plan, 6th Man Ginobili, reflection in the mirror wasn't (keep keep keep lookin' now)
Dirt and the grime spit by serpentine figures
Karma Chamle-on, sippin' dark liquor
Vigorous path of a vigilante, interrupted when found by the side of the road in Ypsilanti
Cash mishandled and misappropriated, bankrupt is how it was adjucated
All the props from the public died down, tied down in contracts, lied down in green pastures for
the soul to be restored
Victim to preda-tors, this ain't folklore, behind closed doors, they try to settle scores
Then they wage war, that ain't safe for, those that want more, now attitude sore
Cuz they been ignored, hurts them to the core, blood on the dance floor
(third verse --- Guilty Simpson)
Proud pops, repping for the inner city blocks, through hip-hop elevated my stock
I started from humble beginnings, now I'm up trying to double my winnings, can't envision
missing my shot
I gotta make it count for the people that count on me, I counter that with countless nights for
salary
I gotta be the winner of bread, memory says before a dinner is fed you gotta bleed and sweat
and cry for it
Damn near died for it to get ahead, I followed tears and sweat beads where many bled
Changing lives through rhyming and what I said, and the tires still have plenty tread
Giving thanks to the ears they lent me, appreciated... the people wanna see make it (come on)
On the wrong path I deviated, I had to look past my past... and reach my greatness
(fourth verse --- Leaf Erikson)
My greatness, can't debate this, shape this to be created as this illest form of rhythm
Word personified
The quality and essence of the spirit is a beautiful reflection and the soul purified
Written by:
Byron D Simpson, Derek Trevell Cooper, Trevor Payne, V. Corey Greenleaf
Publisher:
Lyrics © Songtrust Ave
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