FruitOfTheVale
Superstar
If you ain't heard me before, I got bars and I pick good beats... Nuff said lol. Press play and enjoy this shyt, my 1st album's gon drop very soon.
once again to those who've been following my music, much love.Lyrics for "The Alamo"
Verse 1
When the brightest star plummets in the deepest sea
Light slips the night to dark, covenants of deities
Inscribed in the lion hearts of hustlers defying sleep
Four corner pharmacists with night pill varieties
Roxies and Vicodines, the knocks need to knock off
Prescriptions for the chicken, got squat for the foxtrot
Know not bout no knock-offs, real swooshes on the suede
East Oakland California, real trues you gotta pay
Trees smoked around the corner, burning like the Oakland Hills
Kilos, ounces, quarters, turn em over for the bills
Speedboats round the border, customs never known the deal
bytch about a quarter past two below the steel
Empty on the dash but the gas stay overfilled
System on blast so the drums stay ringing,
Mix been mastered but the clap stay peaking
Finished chrome rattling dismantling receivers
The killer wrote the last to ever pass out your speakers
Emptied out your glass of its mass like Jesus
eleventh hour past now the flashlights beaming
nine-eleven on the ave, this a crash-site beacon
glass pipes heating up sacks of right reasons
black ice dealings: slip or slide, vic or villain
kryptonite stints in prison, living life in the system
Pick a fight with a different ending
Hook
When I go to the store
It's a row for this cold but I know it ain't the antidote
symptoms from the system yo prescription just a placebo
nikkas killing nikkas and these sisters steal us at the source
Damn, it's a war goin on
If it's on then its on but my people been distracted though
Yeah, I said my people been distracted though
Swear to god they tryna wash us like the Alamo
Verse 2
Shottas on the corner post, pockets fulla overdose
Focused on the duckets though a docket's in the horoscope
Market Street a horror show, zombies round the stoner store
Concrete Rosetta Stones embedded in the selling zones
The white girl from Mexico done settled with a brothaman
for green beans in rubberbands, the cream'll make you understand
A dream scene the motherland, is Tsing Tsing a brotha land?
I feel Chapo, put me under land
where the sufferers stand, rooted with a different pull
Moving to a different tune, the rules unprincipled
Underground now but my tomb's in the living room
Plates made of solid gold, hanging from the walls enclosed
with dates, names and audio; ciphers in the spirals
where the blank page starts with yo, the texts scripted
In a language never saw before, the West Indies
Call it sacred, nikkas call it dope, the boys call it war
The raiders on the yard plotting on the score
robbing what was yours, the parchments and the chords
The wallets and awards, the coffin and the corpse
Prophecy delivered to the rockers of rhythm
Would you rock a boat inches from the rockiest inning?
Would you rock the coke whipping what the congressmen sniffing?
Would you watch the folks whipping on some fatherless children
with Guantanamo visions praying your seed isn't?
Hook
Verse 1
When the brightest star plummets in the deepest sea
Light slips the night to dark, covenants of deities
Inscribed in the lion hearts of hustlers defying sleep
Four corner pharmacists with night pill varieties
Roxies and Vicodines, the knocks need to knock off
Prescriptions for the chicken, got squat for the foxtrot
Know not bout no knock-offs, real swooshes on the suede
East Oakland California, real trues you gotta pay
Trees smoked around the corner, burning like the Oakland Hills
Kilos, ounces, quarters, turn em over for the bills
Speedboats round the border, customs never known the deal
bytch about a quarter past two below the steel
Empty on the dash but the gas stay overfilled
System on blast so the drums stay ringing,
Mix been mastered but the clap stay peaking
Finished chrome rattling dismantling receivers
The killer wrote the last to ever pass out your speakers
Emptied out your glass of its mass like Jesus
eleventh hour past now the flashlights beaming
nine-eleven on the ave, this a crash-site beacon
glass pipes heating up sacks of right reasons
black ice dealings: slip or slide, vic or villain
kryptonite stints in prison, living life in the system
Pick a fight with a different ending
Hook
When I go to the store
It's a row for this cold but I know it ain't the antidote
symptoms from the system yo prescription just a placebo
nikkas killing nikkas and these sisters steal us at the source
Damn, it's a war goin on
If it's on then its on but my people been distracted though
Yeah, I said my people been distracted though
Swear to god they tryna wash us like the Alamo
Verse 2
Shottas on the corner post, pockets fulla overdose
Focused on the duckets though a docket's in the horoscope
Market Street a horror show, zombies round the stoner store
Concrete Rosetta Stones embedded in the selling zones
The white girl from Mexico done settled with a brothaman
for green beans in rubberbands, the cream'll make you understand
A dream scene the motherland, is Tsing Tsing a brotha land?
I feel Chapo, put me under land
where the sufferers stand, rooted with a different pull
Moving to a different tune, the rules unprincipled
Underground now but my tomb's in the living room
Plates made of solid gold, hanging from the walls enclosed
with dates, names and audio; ciphers in the spirals
where the blank page starts with yo, the texts scripted
In a language never saw before, the West Indies
Call it sacred, nikkas call it dope, the boys call it war
The raiders on the yard plotting on the score
robbing what was yours, the parchments and the chords
The wallets and awards, the coffin and the corpse
Prophecy delivered to the rockers of rhythm
Would you rock a boat inches from the rockiest inning?
Would you rock the coke whipping what the congressmen sniffing?
Would you watch the folks whipping on some fatherless children
with Guantanamo visions praying your seed isn't?
Hook
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Heat my dude
