Give Us What's Ours (GUWO)
They saying I'm 2 rappity rap
Skip emailed me the track
Didn't made it
To the Backwoods for Brad
Never Hold a grudge
We allies sipping sake
And foreign rum
Enjoying these bombs
On a bear field
Until the soldiers come
This a cut
Don't be afraid
To wipe after
It's only blood
Pouring wounds
Slapped
Onto a scroll
That's Sage age
Let the pain start
This Bloodsport meets Brave heart
Set fire
When the cave dark
Arlong Arc
Skip Sanji with the kicks
Chef like
We soufflé sharks
Brad-Lee open the eight gates
Every eight bars
I over stay
My welcome
Then leave with
The late charge
Say less
What you worrying bout
A rate for
Wouldn't work with you
If somebody else
paid for it
I'll run out of beats
Before I run outta bars
Now I run off on beats
How I'd run off with cars
I don't run off with beats
I give producers their flowers
Planting them seeds
Producing for hours
Till we receiving our flowers
No you don't get the album
Just give us what's ours
We getting what's ours
Felt like complete disaster
Searching for an audience
A gene doesn't capture
The demographic
Collides with content
That doesn't matter
This ain't lunch
With yor pastor
The bottle shatters
They want substance
From the
Drunken Master
So I been mediating
Drinking muscle milk
Taking acid
Took a Psilocybin trip
Came back a Sage after
I was doing these things
Before rappers had
Rapped about them
I had problems I rapped
About them
People laughed about it
My catalog
Was just space at home
Until I took this game system
Upgraded it slow
Single player updates
The archive
Playing arcade mode
My method and quotes
Engraved on an ancient stone
An archaic clone
The archetype
I identified with bad guys
Since Razor Ramon
I hate your control
Been battling these
Demons and rage
Since 8 years old
I been to 30 or more funerals
I hate getting old
Let the smoke
Burn while the song play
My backwood weigh
What a log weigh
Relaxed on a car chase
Scenic view
So I took the long way
Can't let my problems
Erupt into Pompei
Holding up the line
Let the call wait
My Hakis supreme
Get out of straws ways
I'm number 1
You'll always be
Mister 2 like Bon Clay
Black-stache
I look like a stage coach robber
Willing to wager my life
Can you make those offers
I'll run out of beats
Before I run out of bars
Now I run off on beats
How I'd run off with cars
I don't run off with beats
I give producers their flowers
Planting them seeds
Producing for hours
Till we receiving our flowers
No you don't get the album
Just give us what's ours
We getting what's ours
Skip emailed me the track
Didn't made it
To the Backwoods for Brad
Never Hold a grudge
We allies sipping sake
And foreign rum
Enjoying these bombs
On a bear field
Until the soldiers come
This a cut
Don't be afraid
To wipe after
It's only blood
Pouring wounds
Slapped
Onto a scroll
That's Sage age
Let the pain start
This Bloodsport meets Brave heart
Set fire
When the cave dark
Arlong Arc
Skip Sanji with the kicks
Chef like
We soufflé sharks
Brad-Lee open the eight gates
Every eight bars
I over stay
My welcome
Then leave with
The late charge
Say less
What you worrying bout
A rate for
Wouldn't work with you
If somebody else
paid for it
I'll run out of beats
Before I run outta bars
Now I run off on beats
How I'd run off with cars
I don't run off with beats
I give producers their flowers
Planting them seeds
Producing for hours
Till we receiving our flowers
No you don't get the album
Just give us what's ours
We getting what's ours
Felt like complete disaster
Searching for an audience
A gene doesn't capture
The demographic
Collides with content
That doesn't matter
This ain't lunch
With yor pastor
The bottle shatters
They want substance
From the
Drunken Master
So I been mediating
Drinking muscle milk
Taking acid
Took a Psilocybin trip
Came back a Sage after
I was doing these things
Before rappers had
Rapped about them
I had problems I rapped
About them
People laughed about it
My catalog
Was just space at home
Until I took this game system
Upgraded it slow
Single player updates
The archive
Playing arcade mode
My method and quotes
Engraved on an ancient stone
An archaic clone
The archetype
I identified with bad guys
Since Razor Ramon
I hate your control
Been battling these
Demons and rage
Since 8 years old
I been to 30 or more funerals
I hate getting old
Let the smoke
Burn while the song play
My backwood weigh
What a log weigh
Relaxed on a car chase
Scenic view
So I took the long way
Can't let my problems
Erupt into Pompei
Holding up the line
Let the call wait
My Hakis supreme
Get out of straws ways
I'm number 1
You'll always be
Mister 2 like Bon Clay
Black-stache
I look like a stage coach robber
Willing to wager my life
Can you make those offers
I'll run out of beats
Before I run out of bars
Now I run off on beats
How I'd run off with cars
I don't run off with beats
I give producers their flowers
Planting them seeds
Producing for hours
Till we receiving our flowers
No you don't get the album
Just give us what's ours
We getting what's ours
Credits
Writer(s): Bradlee Patrick, Ryan Scott
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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