This is about bronies. They communicate by stomping.
Lulu, uh
Yeah nigga, let me get a light
Smoking this mimosa
Why the popo so vexed for? They raid the wrong house
We had the dope and money next door, uh
The water on my neck pure and I ain't even get the back-end yet from my next tour
That's what they so upset for, they broke so they gon' stress more
I keep my gun on me, you left yours
My money in line that's why I'm good with the connect for
Dog food in the trunk like I just left the pet store (talk to 'em)
Free the brodie, they got my dude up in the mountains
When we was fifteen, we used to shoot up niggas houses
Started with an eight ball and then I moved a couple ounces
I fucked nigga's baby mommas, even seduced a couple spouses
I just blew a couple thousand on shoes that ain't even out yet
Pussy good? Get a new outfit. Christian, Loubs if her mouth wet
Niggas ain't richer than me, I doubt that
Set the streets on fire and niggas ain't put me out yet, Machine bitch
I told my shooter when you shoot it, you unload
Ain't it funny how we open laundry mats
To wash the money from the load, laundry mat rap
My Spanish homie on the west
He think he Tony, when he sniff, he lose control (Perico)
And he don't care who out there when he slide
He gon' pull up and start emptying the pole
And everybody goes nigga
I say the word, niggas gon' run down
With F&N drum rounds you getting gunned down
Tried to hide my pole in the closet and my son found it
So I had to shoot this SK, I gotta teach my son now
How you gangsta? You ain't never do shit
You ain't never shoot shit, never been to jail
I could tell you a bitch (pussy)
We was peddlin' sniff, told my brodie let's fuck with this rap shit
He said he'd rather sell a few bricks
He said that's like me telling you quit
When you the best at what you do, ain't nobody on your level who spit
Came from the bottom from shoveling shit
Now it's thirty pointers in the bezel of my Oyster Perpetual wrist
Your bitch could tell you I'm rich, she came to my telly, The Ritz
And I gave her impeccable dick
I keep this Mac-11, I grip
I let off a clip when I throw my gun in the air, word to Fredro and Stick
I told my shooter when you shoot it, you unload (let that shit go, nigga, let that shit rip)
Ain't it funny how we open laundry mats
To wash the money from the load (wash and folds, nigga)
My Spanish homie on the west
He think he Tony, when he sniff, he lose control (Papi)
And he don't care who out there when he slide
He gon' pull up and start emptying the pole
And everybody goes nigga
Yeah nigga, everybody goes nigga
You, and you, and him too nigga
Greenlight on all you niggas
Niggas know what the fuck is up nigga, yeah
Yeah nigga, let me get a light
Smoking this mimosa
Why the popo so vexed for? They raid the wrong house
We had the dope and money next door, uh
The water on my neck pure and I ain't even get the back-end yet from my next tour
That's what they so upset for, they broke so they gon' stress more
I keep my gun on me, you left yours
My money in line that's why I'm good with the connect for
Dog food in the trunk like I just left the pet store (talk to 'em)
Free the brodie, they got my dude up in the mountains
When we was fifteen, we used to shoot up niggas houses
Started with an eight ball and then I moved a couple ounces
I fucked nigga's baby mommas, even seduced a couple spouses
I just blew a couple thousand on shoes that ain't even out yet
Pussy good? Get a new outfit. Christian, Loubs if her mouth wet
Niggas ain't richer than me, I doubt that
Set the streets on fire and niggas ain't put me out yet, Machine bitch
I told my shooter when you shoot it, you unload
Ain't it funny how we open laundry mats
To wash the money from the load, laundry mat rap
My Spanish homie on the west
He think he Tony, when he sniff, he lose control (Perico)
And he don't care who out there when he slide
He gon' pull up and start emptying the pole
And everybody goes nigga
I say the word, niggas gon' run down
With F&N drum rounds you getting gunned down
Tried to hide my pole in the closet and my son found it
So I had to shoot this SK, I gotta teach my son now
How you gangsta? You ain't never do shit
You ain't never shoot shit, never been to jail
I could tell you a bitch (pussy)
We was peddlin' sniff, told my brodie let's fuck with this rap shit
He said he'd rather sell a few bricks
He said that's like me telling you quit
When you the best at what you do, ain't nobody on your level who spit
Came from the bottom from shoveling shit
Now it's thirty pointers in the bezel of my Oyster Perpetual wrist
Your bitch could tell you I'm rich, she came to my telly, The Ritz
And I gave her impeccable dick
I keep this Mac-11, I grip
I let off a clip when I throw my gun in the air, word to Fredro and Stick
I told my shooter when you shoot it, you unload (let that shit go, nigga, let that shit rip)
Ain't it funny how we open laundry mats
To wash the money from the load (wash and folds, nigga)
My Spanish homie on the west
He think he Tony, when he sniff, he lose control (Papi)
And he don't care who out there when he slide
He gon' pull up and start emptying the pole
And everybody goes nigga
Yeah nigga, everybody goes nigga
You, and you, and him too nigga
Greenlight on all you niggas
Niggas know what the fuck is up nigga, yeah
Lyrics submitted by SongMeanings
Gold BBS's Lyrics as written by Desmond Price
Lyrics © Royalty Network, Reservoir Media Management, Inc.
Lyrics powered by LyricFind
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Bron-Y-Aur Stomp
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This song is written as the perspective of the boys in the street, as a whole, and what path they are going to choose as they get older and grow into men. (This is why the music video takes place in an orphanage.) The seen, and unseen collective suffering is imbedded in the boys’ mind, consciously or subconsciously, and is haunting them. Which path will the boys choose? Issac Hayes is the voice of reason, maybe God, the angel on his shoulder, or the voice of his forefathers from beyond the grave who can see the big picture and are pleading with the boys not to continue the violence and pattern of killing their brothers, but to rise above. The most beautiful song and has so many levels. Racism towards African Americans in America would not exist if everyone sat down and listened to this song and understood the history behind the words. The power, fear, pleading in RZA and Ghostface voices are genuine and powerful. Issac Hayes’ strong voice makes the perfect strong father figure, who is possibly from beyond the grave.
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No Surprises
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Same ideas expressed in Fitter, Happier are expressed in this song. We're told to strive for some sort of ideal life, which includes getting a good job, being kind to everyone, finding a partner, getting married, having a couple kids, living in a quiet neighborhood in a nice big house, etc. But in Fitter, Happier the narrator(?) realizes that it's incredibly robotic to live this life. People are being used by those in power "like a pig in a cage on antibiotics"--being pacified with things like new phones and cool gadgets and houses while being sucked dry. On No Surprises, the narrator is realizing how this life is killing him slowly. In the video, his helmet is slowly filling up with water, drowning him. But he's so complacent with it. This is a good summary of the song. This boring, "perfect" life foisted upon us by some higher powers (not spiritual, but political, economic, etc. politicians and businessmen, perhaps) is not the way to live. But there is seemingly no way out but death. He'd rather die peacefully right now than live in this cage. While our lives are often shielded, we're in our own protective bubbles, or protective helmets like the one Thom wears, if we look a little harder we can see all the corruption, lies, manipulation, etc. that is going on in the world, often run by huge yet nearly invisible organizations, corporations, and 'leaders'. It's a very hopeless song because it reflects real life.
Punchline
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