Oh What A Feelin' Lyrics

Right handed box lefty

All in a bag it's not garbage but it's hefty

Don't test D

Nigga flow unorthodox

Fuck the cops

Homie you might call your pops

I probably beat his ass in high school

The pen is my weapon I get busy with my tool

And I'm cool

No problem showing my age

I take the mask off goatee will show you the grays

Take the durag off it'll show you the waves

Hair lined with a barber's preciseness

Niggaz like they don't like this

Mad at they self cuz they can't write this

In the studio having a crisis

If lyrics come back homie they won't like us

(They won't)

We already do not like you

(We don't)

And I'm a stay 100 to spite you

Oh what a feeling

From whipping the pot slinging Os to making livings

Struggling to make it now we make a fucking killing

Money for our children

Stack it to the ceiling

Oh what a feeling

From whipping the pot slinging Os to making livings

Struggling to make it now we make a fucking killing

Money for our children

Stack it to the ceiling

Forever thinking bout the future

Pen in my hand

Not a cannon but it shoots ya

A snapshot

Raps not

What these cats doing

Microwave copycats and they might ruin

The art form

And that's real trife

Cuz hip hop really changed my life

I mean it saved my life

Here's a little sage advice

When you rap don't say the same things twice

And that's the way we write

So maybe I could do it for you

Or do it for them

Homie I'm a do with the pen

The same thing Hendrix did with guitars

I change the game like Tesla did with the cars

Take something that's existing

Make it much better

But don't get it twisted

This shit is forever

Probably gotta get it stamped on your brain

Cuz A&O Records back in the game

Yea we at it again

Oh what a feeling

From whipping the pot slinging Os to making livings

Struggling to make it now we make a fucking killing

Money for our children

Stack it to the ceiling

Oh what a feeling

From whipping the pot slinging Os to making livings

Struggling to make it now we make a fucking killing

Money for our children

Stack it to the ceiling

Impeccable timing

Rhyming's like mining

Dive and you will find

The kind that's truly blinding

Shining through the mind's of fools

Nigga I don't rhyme for you

Please

I ain't worried bout your raps

I'm trying to keep my soul clean worried bout all that

I'm trying to elevate

Cuz heaven is coming I gotta make a date

The money is calling and I ain't never late

The shit is full circle I gotta make it straight

I gotta get a plate

Niggaz looking all lost like a boy in the manger

Test the wrong dudes no way to smell danger

(It's too late)

So put your lyrics on a hanger

I be in the lab making banger after banger

(What you said?)

So put your lyrics on a hanger

I be in the lab making banger after banger

Oh what a feeling

From whipping the pot slinging Os to making livings

Struggling to make it now we make a fucking killing

Money for our children

Stack it to the ceiling

Oh what a feeling

From whipping the pot slinging Os to making livings

Struggling to make it now we make a fucking killing

Money for our children

Stack it to the ceiling

Oh what a feeling

To make a livin

Now we make a fuckin killin

Oh what a feeling

Oh what a feeling

Oh what a feeling