album cover
Burnt Offering
25
Hip-Hop/Rap
Burnt Offering was released on February 28, 2011 by Q-DEMENTED as a part of the album Gray Poupon
album cover
Release DateFebruary 28, 2011
LabelQ-DEMENTED
LanguageEnglish
Melodicness
Acousticness
Valence
Danceability
Energy
BPM85

Music Video

Music Video

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Doap Nixon
Doap Nixon
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Thomas Brenneck
Thomas Brenneck
Composer
Michael Deller
Michael Deller
Composer
Daniel Foder
Daniel Foder
Composer
Andrew Greene
Andrew Greene
Songwriter
Brian Profilio
Brian Profilio
Composer
Jared Tankel
Jared Tankel
Composer

Lyrics

I offer this burnt offering
A fifty bar sacrifice
For all this fake shit these **** making
May God have mercy on your souls
Well it's the time of the year to stack the riches
Must be that time of the month, they acting like bitches
It's Nickelbags, the flow is popping
**** all on my top 'cause the flow's a monster
A hustler a hustler, a pimp is a pimp
Never mix the two together 'cause your shit'll get gripped
I'm at the top motherfucker, you at the top of the bottom
Never sweat small shit 'cause these **** I got 'em
The album's dropping, came ill with the title
Can't hate on a **** when he's America's Idol
They begging me to come harder, they begging you to retire
I ain't the type to air it out, I set **** on fire
Your manager want a meeting, your record label's bitching
State road is packed, a lot of **** snitching
I ain't your average rapper, this ain't your run of the mill
The hawk is official, the chumpies is still
So fuck beef, I'm a businessman cousin
But the love is all real, you can quit with the bugging
Cut the strings from your puppet, wanna see how they walk
Take my words out they mouth, I wanna hear how they talk
Something's telling me to migrate
More paper up the road right off the highway
We bathe **** with bullets and dry 'em off with heaters
Decorate the phone wire with a pair of your sneakers
Somebody ring the alarm
Don't really care for paradise but you can bring me a bomb
It's Dope Nick, Champ, Shadeen of the underground
Them **** ain't shit but they can put you underground
So from now on the snubs is tucked
I get love out in Mecca, hundred thugs wanna buck
I keep a count on the bars
Cali love the sour shit, keep an ounce for the stars
My **** Snook, word on the streets heard you getting married
Congratulations my ****, I miss your little fairy
Facts, Deanie, Velour, Black Walt Whitman
Out of sight, out of mind but the bars'll hit 'em
Still got the fiends overdose the streets
Couple sons still trap, hope they close to peeps
I'm still doing my thizzle, still spitting the missiles
Still got time for a good gristle
Ready to give this to my little brother
Good money, same blood, same heart, different mother
My old heads is in bark mode
The streets is our crib and we live by a dark code
So kick rocks, you're mumbling
But your words ain't nothing
Two tags the way we say stop fronting
A lot of pins, a lot of gin
Clapped at a lot of men
Make **** jump out they skin
I know you getting all this money right
Fifty bars burnt, hope you come back with something nice
I said you getting all this money right
Fifty bars burnt, hope you come back with something nice
That's how you set a **** on fire man
I do this man, I do what I want
Any repercussions I'm built for
Inshallah
Written by: Andrew Greene, Brian Profilio, Daniel Foder, Jared Tankel, Michael Deller, Thomas Brenneck
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