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The 29th Chapter - For The One (featuring Sammy G) The 29th Chapter - For The One (featuring Sammy G) |
| Chorus:
This is for the one, who lies in on a Sunday
Rave so hard miss work on a Monday
For the thug whose living life grungy
Beef on the street but he thinks life’s lovely.
For the chick whose chasing her dreams
Never happy with her face or waist in the jeans
For the ghetto chick blazing the green
For the mothers with kids at the age of eighteen.
Navigator:
Young thug, hold up, I’ll address the issue
I ain’t hear to battle or rattle your cage or dis you
But you know when I grab the mic to spit dude
I WILL spit flames and they may just lick you
I may just hit you right where it hurts
Cos the light exposes a life full of dirt
You might be a flirt and hit with the chicks
But God sees you stare at her butt licking your lips
You need to fix up quickly
So what? Your 306 is nifty
I don’t care what brae’s are shifty
Stop fighting, warfare is sickly
Don’t wanna see you spreading your beef
Heart heavy, weighed down like lead in your feet
God loves you man you can head for relief
Or be another bluh bluh bluh, dead in the street.
Chorus
Sammy G:
This is for the yout who knows about lyrics, writes two pages in fifteen minutes/
Bear gimmicks, none of its tight he just mimic’s/
Other rappers straight down to the image/
Never seen a gun still he says that he buss one/
Diamond encrustin’ his rhymes when he spits them bars/
Says “I’ve come from ghetto, life used to be hard”/
But there aint nothin’ ghetto about his mum’s yard!/
She pays the Bills, his inputs minimal/
You can’t have a Bentley without a provisional/
Seriously, why so many toots wanna be criminals?/
Aint nothin’ pretty bout prison, really!/
Clearly they don’t see what keepin’ it real is/
Pear kids wanna live reckless and fearless/
Hear this, for real it’s not what life’s like/
Why not represent Christ and live life Christ like?
Chorus
Phonetix
This one’s for the rude boys sitting in the back of a Nova
Every 10 minutes and you’re getting pulled over
White middle class but you talk like a Rasta
Rolling on hubcaps your mom bought from Asda
Smoke weed and you say you’re a dealer
Buy all your stuff from a homeless geezer
Sell a little bit to your friend for a reefer
Saving up your cash for a trip to Ibiza
You’ve got a camera phone you like to show
Can’t afford a contract though you’re on pay as you go
Filmed a beating so you think you’re the man
But you’re so stupid you happy slapped your own Nan
Please bro I think its time you grew up
Before the crown court labels you another screw up
Bring the best raps your filthy little mind can stew up
(Yeah) I bring the gospel and merk your whole crew up
Chorus |
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