Bappin' Lyrics

It doesn't matter what they say

They could flee with no delay

I would somehow still find my way

And sculpt the clay

They seek a testament to fate

And levels unattained

I keep the West locked and rock

From the tippy top of my brain

From the start I just pounce

I got heart and it counts

I invest along routes

Find a way in as well as out

Used to blaze by the ounce

Keep a stowed four pound

Full metal jackets and loud

Hate and blind justice'll be around

Some sleep like a log

But I don't roll over

Don't give up just give in - dirty dog

I'm not your owner

It took many years

Debt is over

Now I'm sober

And just to be clear

If you're in my way

You might get run over

It doesn't matter what they say

They could flee with no delay

I would somehow still find my way

And sculpt the clay

They seek a testament to fate

And levels unattained

I keep the West locked and rock

From the tippy top of my brain

I like drums loud and gritty

Bass that booms and growls

Love to cruise through my city

And fill rooms with my sound

I'm on the prowl for my people

Cause I love with a passion

I bless off the evil

And can't get no satisfaction

It's a task to maintain

Even simple and plain

Retain what I gain being sane

Keep a democratic frame

Cause I've been low and poor

Now I hustle for more

Find the moral with the lore

Is nobody keeping score

It doesn't matter what they say

They could flee with no delay

I would somehow still find my way

And sculpt the clay

They seek a testament to fate

And levels unattained

I keep the West locked and rock

From the tippy top of my brain

This Antronic/Tony Saran

Keeping real with a plan

Got more lyrics and beats

Than you can count on hands and feet

And I probably wont stop

While critics keep lying and trying

Hip hop

My style's death defying

And my bop gun keeps firing

I'm not a sinister mister

Gray and white speckled whiskers

Not often into liquor

Cause it makes my belly bigger

I take notes to later figure

Scrolls and pages with pictures

Connect like tronic fixtures

Resurrect rhythms while critics whisper

It doesn't matter what they say

They could flee with no delay

I would somehow still find my way

And sculpt the clay

They seek a testament to fate

And levels unattained

I keep the West locked and rock

From the tippy top of my brain