FromdaTomb$ (feat. Chuck Strangers) — Joey Bada$: letras e videoclipes das músicas e shows

FromdaTomb$ (feat. Chuck Strangers)

49.861

Hip-Hop/Rap

FromdaTomb$ (feat. Chuck Strangers) foi lançado em 12 de junho de 2012 por PRO ERA / EMPIRE como parte do álbum 1999

Informações da música

Álbum1999

Data de lançamento12 de junho de 2012

SeloPRO ERA / EMPIRE

Melodicidade

Acusticidade

Valence

Dançabilidade

Energia

BPM93

RESUMO

LETRA

Créditos

INTERPRETAÇÃO

Joey Bada$$

Vocais

Andrew Hale

Samples (artista original)

Chuck Strangers

Chuck Strangers

Vocais

Statik Selektah

Statik Selektah

Scratch

Stetsasonic

Samples (artista original)

COMPOSIÇÃO E LETRA

Che Jessamy

Composição

Jo-Vaughn Virginie Scott

Jo-Vaughn Virginie Scott

Composição

PRODUÇÃO E ENGENHARIA

Chuck Strangers

Chuck Strangers

Produção

Letra

[Verse 1]

My man Dirty had to Buddha just to put me in my right mind

I rhyme stoned, drop jewels and bright lines

Sight dimes with slight closed eyes, I'm slight so by

Ma, you ain't the girl that givin' throat, so bye

F it, I'm bipolar, took shorty to the backroom

Play charades, she actin' like a vacuum

Showed her to the door before the afternoon

She fell hard on the floor, so you know that she'll be back soon

Fake MC's get their reps ruined

Young villain hop up n the track then the track doomed

Click, clack, boom, resurrectin' boom, back fromdatomb$

Raps dope like crack in cocoons

Back in this mood, back on the move

It's the motherfuckin' real, ****, chill, act cool

Pay respect to the cat, Drew

And I'm way too blessed to be throwin' shots at you

[Verse 2]

Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest

Uh, big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era

[Verse 3]

I'm tryna find my own lane, in this freeway of life

Just remember, homeboy, there ain't no free way to life

My ****, it's gon' cost you, try not to lose your soul

To the rims, hoes, and gold

'Cause once the devil grab hold, that **** ain't lettin' go

And I'm far from religious, I just know right and wrong

I know how to write these songs, I know how to light these bongs

I know how to rip thongs, and I'm pretty good at beer pong

****, I'm so crazy, ****, I'm loco

Gassed up like Sunoco, press the pedal through the floor

Bitch, we out the door, vroom, vroom, skrrt

Bitch, love don't live here no more

'Cause her weave look faker than her Louie bag

Weak chick I tried to bag, had the nerve to turn me down

Heard this song and turned around

Now she want me to unzip her pants

But I'm gone, bitch missed her chance

[Verse 4]

Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest

Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era

Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the realest

Big ups to Brooklyn, home of the era

[Verse 5]

I got sick of class, started making classics

Now all I really do is get the grass lit and bust asses

I'm sure to blow like bust acid

Puff assist like Maravich, a true Maverick

And I average above average on a average day

Doin' bad shit, bet you still can't pass this

And his teacher still pass him

Though the adolescents be addin' rappin' sessions over addin' lessons

Like fuck trigonometry, I'm tryna to multiply monopolies

Subtract some homies and divide the cheese

Divide legs into isosceles so my eyes can see through the E

Shit on your hypotheses

Hypocrisy after essence like apostrophes

You can't stand here unless you pay a posture fee

Part the cheese, head out the spot, and leave

A pile of G's for apology

[Verse 6]

Joey Bad and Chuck Strangers

Leavin' **** in danger

Danger, danger

Joey Bad leavin' **** in danger

Written by: Che Kevin Jessamy, Jo-Vaughn Scott

Rodapé do Shazam

Selecionar idioma:

Empresa

Jurídico

Termos
Política de privacidade
Gerencie seus dados

Chrome Web Store

Galaxy Store

Siga-nos

© Copyright 2025 Apple Inc. e suas afiliadas | Responsabilidade do fornecedor

Loading...