Losers Lyrics

[Translee]
This ain't no marathon, never worry on
If she throw it back, Barry Bonds
Great debate, let it carry on
You be Mike Wallace, I'll be Farrakhan, Un-American
If I'm in the room, I'm the elephant
My cellphone is like a telethon
Don't be insulting my intelligence
I'm the poster child, gold chain
Gold ring, gold watch, I'm the golden child
Know Translee, who's Translee
Got dammit, do you know me now?
Hope you absorbing that
These liquor stores they be sorta packed
The new world order ordered that
That's why guns got no safety
Cause we just want our corner back, you get that?
No safety man
Cause we just want our cornerback
That's one-hundred like quarter sacks
I'm more than rap, I need moolah before I oolah
Im more Busta Rhymes than Martin Lawrence I wooahhh before I woosaah
With a cool drive, Im too live
Your momma gonna need your suit size how my crew ride
In due time
Never be a loser, always win like a cool breeze
I be listening to Cool Breeze
My cologne is Cool Breeze, my belt cost two g's
That's kind of overboard I know
I got dope vocal chords, I know
I rock the dopest clothes, I know
I got the dopest hoes, I know
I got the most... I know
Hooligan, fooligan, hooligan, shwooligan, wooligan, wooligan, shooligan
That's what I heard when I turn on the radio
Rappers should be more intuitive
That way nobody dies, cause I see nobody tries
That's why when ya'll drop ya'll shit it's like ya'll fans gay, nobody buys
I'm killing shit like a shotgun in your ass crack
This rap shit, ya'll can have that
Too much politican man I hate that
And why we got to be scared of ya'll?
Ya'll wear skinny jeans
And, nothing wrong with skinny jeans but
We can see that ya'll AIN'T STRAPPED
Think about it, Whitney Houston I'ma sing about it
New rollie got to take a link up out it
She sext me ain't get a thing up out it
She sext you and got a ring up out it
Who's the realer man? Cause you built a fam and I just pulled my pants up and ran, damn
Don't be a loser forever, that's the moral of the story
Don't fight with your success, don't quarrel with the glory
You want the house with all the stories, no worries Just keep a shoulder cold as snow flurries
And take the slow grind, no hurries

{Audio of Michael Eric Dyson}

[Translee]
Fresh when I bend them corners, flexing got DaVinci on us
Blowing money fast, I think I might put Bleu Davinci on this
Never wore this type of shit, but hey they got the cameras on us
These are Kunta Kinte orders, don't respond to what they call us
Nigga's not my name, bitch is not her name either
I was on them bitches back when niggas was just name keepers
Riding in that same Regal, me and Bull, we needed fuel we relied on women we had pulled, sshh
We was on them back streets, me and Miller, ounces in the backseat
Pray to god I make it home, cause I know that this is not me
The cops be behind us to remind us slaveries not far behind us college isn't promised
Prison won't decline us, they'll make some room, make some room even if they gotta take a school
Take a school, take a stool you gon' need it
Have a seat cause what I'm feedin' is the 80's crack boom, you'll never beat it

[Bias The Black]
Where ya gonna be when you're 40?
Gonna be on Oprah, gonna be Maury
Gonna have some grandkids tell em all ya stories
Just don't be a loser, all ya life

{Audio of Cornel West speaking}

[Translee]
I might hit you with that ficky ficky ficky like I'm Missy Elliot
Im rapping like an alien, I give these hoes an alias
They can't wait to see us sell temperature in celsius
You ain't get that punchline
Celsius, see us sell, well, sometimes I be stretching it
Sometimes I be wrecking shit too hard don't get no recompense
The FBI might take this song and use it for evidence
And lock me up for letting you know the truth and it's evidence
I see money, I see money, greed and evil
I indulge in the achievement of my people
That's just how I was raised, praise god on Sunday mornings
Tell em I'm done with hoes, next morning I'm right back horny, ooh
Bitches tell me "ooh kill em", I just fall off in that couchie
And I lean, smooth criminal, tryna be too visual, on the hunt for new residual
Tired of make due with minimum DNC's the new cinema

[Bias The Black]
Where ya gonna be when you're 40?

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