LYRIC

90s Flow Lyrics

DJ Kay Slay

1
Can’t nobody stop my flow
Yo, yo-yo-yo, yo (Ahh)

2
I rep New York way above the rest
Whippin’ the double R, knockin’ Crooklyn’s best (Baby-baby)
F..k all you hoes, get a grip, motherf..ker
If mines don’t shoot ya, Pistol P gon cut ya
Slay hit me up, say he the black Fat Joe again
So I pull a mask, grab the straps, now I’m going in
Mind on my money, and money bring the problems
See my nine never funny, wasn’t laughing when I shot him (Blat)
Summertime in the city where the bodies drop
Your enemies’ll throw a party like it’s Mardi Gras
Nigga, I’m right here, you know right where
BX, New York, Polos and Nike Airs
I’m liable to bring a lion to a dogfight
Reliable to push the iron on an off night
Slay got the streets locked, Mello got the Garden packed
Told him, “Thirteen for the half” and he brought it back

3
It’s not a game, this is not a show
We do it up for the money ’cause it’s all we know
So go and tell your folks, can’t nobody stop my flow

4
Yo, yo, you would think I’m in a laundry mat, powder everywhere
One blink like poof, I’m in Times Square
With a dime, yeah, she f..kin’ with a crime bear
Name be off the lights stuck like a blind dare
Y’all make sure y’all fix the G
Don’t want nothin’ crooked around here ‘less a crook schemin’ on me
Together we live, forever I burn
With an antibiotic flow, controlling y’all germs
Medellin crop dog cartel
I’m Roger Moore in the double-O suite sippin’ Martell
’86 Giant, you can ask Parcell
Raided niggas’ flats, grey and black R shell
Put your ear to the speaker, this is rap Easter
Snatched niggas’ eggs and shit, bone ya senorita
Large Glocks, mortgage is fifteen in three spots
Interest is too far, you can’t eavesdrop
You can’t sneeze, ock
Got the Slomin’s shell system high power, look, hidden in the trees, hop
Hop over my gate, I come out blazing
And a nigga stay in a rage so I ain’t grazing

5
Haulin’ sharks snorkels, Russian hats
Cooling in Amsterdam, the windchill factor is a wrap
My telescope solid gold, the dresser is clear
Stuntin’ magazine and some gear
We clear on how to cook, rhyme and sling
Most of my blings is auctioned, now I’m in a sweatsuit in the rain
Forbes horse smell of her fragrance, maxing in France
Harry Winston made a belt for my pants
A hundred for the necklace, two hundred on the watch
That’s infectious, your money ain’t pure, I can’t protect this
You live in the trenches, wrangling the Sprint bus
Guns is under the loveseat with the dumb dust
Pump one, pump ’em all, pass the suitcase with the blue faces
Rubber band wrapped in shoelaces
Yeah I can’t call it, it’s just living, I orbit
Shit is so hard, don’t gotta talk it

6
I wore shiny suits with Puff, did freestyles with B.I.G
Made Reservoir with Hov and I’m back, my nig’
G-G-Graveyard flow, I show you how to dig
Half of that boy or a ki’ of that Lindsay
Dropped the EP now New York is in a frenzy
Been waiting on the LOX, these lil’ niggas rappin’ like they twelve
So I guess they waiting on they pops
O-Old nigga, new nigga need to know this
Ain’t none of y’all f..kin’ with me, Styles and Kiss
This ain’t beef, this lyrical sparring
Beef is when I’m sitting in the garage you parked your car in
Still go out on the block, get high, give goons a dap
With you, it’s only when you rap
Put the gun down pussy, who the f..k you gon’ clap?
Get the f..k out the game
If you wasn’t hot last year, ’14 gon’ be the goddamn same, nigga

7
It’s not a game, this is not a show
We do it up for the money ’cause it’s all we know
So go and tell your folks, can’t nobody stop my flow
(You already know, Slay, I got you baby, uh)

8
I’d love to get a Grammy and eventually will
Right now, my main focus letting them centuries build
Bentley for real jade red, haters want me dead
But the Lord want me living, f..k prison, I’m in position
Tiptop condition, listen, I’m on my toes
Get pussy on the reg’, got no time for these hoes
Half these niggas rap comedy shows, cold-blooded punks
Don’t wan’ shoot it out, don’t wan’ dump
I expose niggas who forty and lived through one story, doggy
Ain’t in the gang with me, my killers came with me
Watching everything shifty
I was trained to lay down that murder game, kick dirt on my name
First the flame hit your brain, aim like Saddam Hussein
Give it to any nigga, any terrain
F..k what niggas sayin’, man, I’m tryna maintain, nigga
Yeah, I’m tryna maintain

9
Ayo, since ’96, came in the game, no tricks
’98, Violator shit with Eric Nicks
Rest in peace Chris, we piss glamorous conglomerate
Still Islam-in’ it, real niggas honor it
I used to f..k with hoes that blow cock then they vibe with it
Swank wore a good belt, Lord, we on the board
Was raised to protect my moms
Deuce-deuce bust through the triple fat goose
Army Fatigue pants, TEC bust loose, still smoke tree plants
Killer on the Goose, shade shock Ray Bands
Vaporizing hemp sanitizer
Sprinkle the Deutch, them shit niggas, they shizer
And now my town wanna f..kin’ sound like my f..kin’ town though
I’m with that shit, that’s my shit, I’m Rambo
F..k it, and I ain’t gon’ tell them niggas suck my dick
But if they hating on this, well tell ’em, “Suck my dick”

10
It’s not a game, this is not a show
We do it up for the money ’cause it’s all we know
So go and tell your folks, can’t nobody stop my flow
(Brrr, uh)

11
First of all, I’m a underdog, I don’t like none of y’all
Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall, I keep a gunner, dawg
The spirit of Guru, it ain’t something to y’all
Biggie Smalls, Big L and Big Pun to y’all
That’s everything that you lack in your lyrics
My flow is the results of the crack epidemic (Huh)
Dirty burners baby (Yeah) murder -murder baby (Yeah)
You shooting baby powder (Yeah) you a Gerber baby
Nothing to f..k with, known for the thug shit
Street certified, hood notary republic (Am I wrong?)
You are now tuned into the Drama Hour
With the blammers out, dusty nines allowed
I’m from out of New York with gats and load
Guns and roses like Axel Rose (Nigga)
You say subliminal shit but you ain’t saying no names
Don’t f..k with me, I ain’t playing no games

11
Yo, yo, tremendous career, the legacy of
A dirty little New Yorker they want done
Locked in the cage, shot in the face
The fall from grace in this hip-hop thang
But music shoot through my veins
My target locked in my brain, and I won’t fall
My heart is too passionate to give y’all
The satisfaction to see me all
Broke and f..ked up, but that, there won’t be none of
Image that, it’s not happening
This is my dream, my dream
Dreams, niggas tryna take my dreams
It seems, you wanna poke holes
In my coffin and just know it’s a waste of time
It can’t be done
My shit made of titanium and you soft like pillows

12
It’s not a game, this is not a show
We do it up for the money ’cause it’s all we know
So go and tell your folks, can’t nobody stop my flow

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90s Flow Lyrics (1)

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