END CREDITS es una canción de Daylyt cuya letra tiene innumerables búsquedas, por lo que hemos decidido que merece tener su lugar en este sitio web, junto con otras muchas letras de canciones que los internautas desean conocer.
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I ain't just poppin' my chest
I did my a lot to get my spot in the best
Me and Dot got somethin' in common
We ain't pop in the west
We went east to feast for years
Before the city would back us
It was hard for the skill to lay niggas to really get traction
Close homies gave us the crooked eye for rapping with pain
Conscious rap, they shut the door if you ain't snatchin' a chain
It affected us
Dot, I can't forget when they was neglectin' us
They said we'll never make it now look who protectin' us
It's the West Coast bodyguard
Physical pass, show my body scars
Been through every barrel with a hundred raps
Back when it was one shot kill, wasn't no run it back
Barbershops, corner stores, miss a word and you done, in fact
Just spit superb, tell your homies quiet down to rip a nerve
Before I met Soul, I made you niggas heard
Resident Evil, pleasant with people
Time to snap like a schizo without a pill
Let's head to the sequel
Now this the night at The Apollo as I swallow your career whole
Dear Cole, tell 'em what I did in the studio
Three hundred tracks in two days, I'll for sure pop
Came out the booth, the whole room said
"He not like us" that was before Dot
A human I'm for sure not
Human got me in tunnel vision, writing in sin
I blacked out this whole ride, you see it's light at the end, huh
Lux was a tough decision, I fuck with it
Fuck your disses, it's up so we up the switches
Which it stands, one man left on a hill
It's Quill, I'm here
Killer clown, huh
Thinking that he it, oh, it's deaf, you hear me now
Nope, show me a quote that stuck from one of them records
Flow and pocket, nice voice
Dope beat selection (for real), I see you
Low in the spot that get you added to goats
This the talent I boast, you salad with goat dreads
Gin and Juice but no beach cruisin'
This Dre and Snoop on a boat head
A deli slide, all light there equal to zero
It all comes around to the bread when they thinking they heroes
I chop cheesy thoughts, your sleazy cloth come from a rinse rag
I'll wash you easy
Ruthless, my plot beneath me
Proofread goofy, time to get spooky
See what son about
Light still outside, they runnin' out, huh
Homes got ghosts, it ain't a haunted house
What y'all debatin'? All the bait I gave you for conversation
Karma bacon, they hate shade throwing but stalling Ray Bands
Glasses, all these niggas like black and they flow mulatto
Caramelization
Brooklyn clown underground laid Harlem shakin' (ayo)
Double-barrel aim, I won't spare a name
There the game go back in it's place
I thank you, Joey
Grateful for this space you created
AZ, King, Ray
Coyotes, Lit Papi, K-Boy
On Hitta, we did that
Jag, we did that
Slid on niggas with box and hard raps
Big smoke, this the cigar pack
Put hands and feet on niggas, Seagal's back
Can't cop out now, we set a hard trap
I'm in it for the long run
I'm Michael Johnson, boy got aid
Oh, he was Magic Johnson
Son a bitch, 6ix9ine had y'all tucked in a ditch (for real)
The NY sound was up for the fishes
The Ruler's back, oh, you the man, Joey (Joey)
Today I crown you the King of New York for taking that stand, Joey
You really took the fade with all of us, a brave man
NY-made man, it's just immortal when your grave land
Big stepper, figured they needed this
Oh, this feeling they deleted this
Elite exist in ways hoping that we delete
They feed the streets low bar rappin'
So we don't tap into that four forethought
They double speaking right in front of us
Of course we all fought for every hood story
Paid in Full, Menace II Society, Boyz-n-the-Hood
The play will pull the mind, right in Jersey Drive
I'm still whippin' them without dissin'
Kids listen, this is just my real mission
Came to the game to show you the real vision
Marvelous, gargle us, brainwashing lane
They got us in plain sight staining each other
When we should be hanging together
East Coast versus the West Coast, the klan got they own post
And we ain't want no smoke
None of us, shouts to Khalil Muhammad
This shit is bigger than rhyming, I promise
Land where we walking to Malcolm, Martin
With all our crews, Trayvon Martin, STEEZ you marchin' too
I figure we call the truth then we all inclusive, let 'em analyze
Made up story, gave us glory, this what they worried 'bout
I tricked them with the beat play
And now we on a sweepstake
Dummy balling filet mignon, three plates
The reactors'll replay, we dropped so much shit
They gon' be weeks late
Infinity War take for the street play
Had shit for the rappers and the DJs, a new case
People living in shacks, had to screw face
I see y'all, thank you, I love you
All of the bloggers balling, calling each other
All of the podcasters mobbin' for supper
All off our hard work, look how God work
We fed the streets when they needed that the most
And we can boast about this shit for a lifetime
Aye, Dee-1, that's Christ time
God said light shine, I'm made to do it
No slave to who is in charge, I engrave the ruin
Something new in the book of Hip-Hop
Set the stage, I promise a new day
The age of the consciousness, Jamar, I got us
Lit with they devastation
I mastered all my crazy thoughts with sensory deprivation
Took mountain heights through pyramids
I learned how to blink or two
History comes as text format
You see what ink'll do. Right, right
Gun spree on decrease
We did it all without them bleeding the streets
We did it all without us feeding they beast
We put our feet in the seats
So the plans they had to dumb us down and summer now
The Sun still set in the east, it's light
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