Rags to Riches
Baron Ricks
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Lyrics
Yeah
Yo, for all my Harlem-bred and brown motherfuckers
For all my niggas from the motherfucking hills
(Easy Jesus)
Easy
From the hill all around
This the nigga on you like
Fluorescent words flash signs in your mind
Rhymes I find, combined with fly shit, son enlightens the blind
Hold fort, Rucker court renaissance change quick
Concepts get flipped, more complex for hits
My street slang dangle might cause you strangle in the cord
Inside a Ford Expedition, Landcruise in pole position
Strike first and never ask questions, intuition
When guns bust you duck to see who spittin', buck in broad daylight
It's Harlem River Drive live nigga connects
Get right, dime bags for flight
Participatin' in this game of life with all cards dealt
Poker face, ready to gamble my fate away
It's on the line son, to get mine son, double up son
The hard way son, pay the man son, I'm out son
We blow the spot, make it hot, make you bop a lot
Rock the charts, cock Glocks, take over your blocks
Stash weed from cops, when we bust you drop
Pop the top, take shots, smash out, and drop
Two kids gone bad, mad, 'cause they never had
No money up in the pockets, no chance to make the cash
And remember the days, hustlin' to make the loot fast
The past, never leaves me, can't afford to be greedy
You never last, the treaty will pass and people clash
Killin' each other over the money, bloodbath
The path, to riches from rags is toe tags
And body bags, spinnin' the wheels, rollin' the jag
In the late night, Hollywood swingin', freakin' the shows
In the house of blues, flexin' my crew roll in the door
Soul to soul, I'm like the Buddha tree that grows
All the way up to the heavens with seven days to go
The guilt represents the climb you take on
When you're sittin' on top, you gotta try and stay on
Drugs, haters, and evil bitches, bring you down
When you on the road from rags to riches you get clowned
We blow the spot, make it hot, make you bop a lot
Rock the charts, cock Glocks, take over your blocks
Stash weed from cops, when we bust you drop
Pop the top, take shots, smash out, and drop
Put it in motion, I make thunder claps with raps
My sound sonic penetrate the ground fillin' the cracks
From the land, where niggas roll Vogues and 'Lacs
Sell crack, and murder is an everyday act
I'm in a black Jeep, blunted out, sunk in the back
Writin' raps to tracks to spread across the map
Connect lost in sport, with the soul of old, Harlem New York
From palm trees to Polo ground courts
Truly yours, native Angelino, Los Scandalous
Los Angeles, the root of evil
Thick smog killin' people
Niggas emulate the latest mob movie sequel
It's an everyday struggle for some, but some lounge in the lap
Make it out, swear to God that they never come back
Regardless of the fact, most niggas return
Play in the flames and eventually one day get burned
Two ways to learn, I wouldn't choose the latter
Bullets penetrate through your ribs shatter your bladder
Chase burn the dutch, roll like a viper with no clutch
Never paper lust, make money work for us
We blow the spot, make it hot, make you bop a lot
Rock the charts, cock Glocks, take over your blocks
Stash weed from cops, when we bust you drop
Pop the top, take shots, smash out, and drop, nigga