“Young G’s”

Posted on January 1, 2013


(A #KZHS Interactive Hip-Hop Experience)

“Young G’s”

 Young Gs Top Pic CR stocking

Lyrics by K. Ziruolo

Music: Puff Daddy’s “Young G’s” instrumental

(Click for music; lyrics begin at 0:15)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tBZ-1Rf-6U8

[Verse 1]

 

I want action; so I set out to make it happen, Cap’n

Throw your captain overboard from the deck of his own craft

Onto a rubber life raft stabbed up and losing air faster

Than a sickly kid gasping when the asthma is attacking him

No inhaler in the area; what’s the second course of action?

You failed to plan ahead; now you’re collapsing in the grass and

Wheezing and gasping; all the passers-by are passing

I’m a little taken back by your lack of respiratory traction

 

Look at your face, man; you’re turning bluer that a Smurf’s ass

I ain’t giving mouth-to-mouth, and there’s no aspirin here to pass em

.357 Magnums in the pants; you know I had em

Smith & Wesson stamped em with a serial numbers and calibers

I guess you should have listened when I was still nicely asking

I had to resort to jabbing cause my requests went unanswered

I seen your security out front in the Escalade napping

Leave you in the Cuyahoga River; treading, paddling, and splashing

Families posted up now behind taxi stands laughing

Cracking and dumping El Producto guts in trash cans

Got a green Vega packed, practice back-and-forth passing

Liquor bottles out back with the plastic cups relaxing

Our forefather’s flipped when the British tried taxing em

Put it down like pitbull when he’s smashing on a daschund

The gat sound is louder than a hydroponic pound is

I’m Johnny Ampleweed; throw hemp seeds on the ground

[Verse 2]

The markets mismanaged; financial collapse is happening

 The wealth gap dividing, the happiness is passing us

The cutting-edge fashions and twelve-horse contraptions

Playing fast and loose with facts, you gotta issue a retraction

Say what you will about me, but I’ve never lacked passion

Like a stoner with a plant within a comic strip’s caption

Had a calcium deposit; I couldn’t fit a damn wristband

But I wrote until my wrist and both hands had started cramping

 

From cigar passing; discussing decimals and fractions

Take derivatives and remainders, round em up and add em

Cause it’s coming from your cut if there’s a matter of subtraction

 Keep everything on camera like a botched cell extraction

Sometimes we can’t sleep at night; haunted by our actions

Operating within factions leaving body parts in napkins

We often lack the capacity with which to imagine it

Because the thoughts in our minds are just a chemical reaction

Let the interaction result in Crown bags of hard cash and

Every bill in the bands have a face as big as Jackson’s

Had an absentee ballot; I should have voted in Nevada

Mention Yin Yang Twins cause all I hear is nagging

Look overboard again, I see the captain’s still flapping

No more shore leaves with stacks, laughter, and bragging

Another boat-jacking; grab up all your shit for sacking

Your security was lacking; no chance that you were packing

 

 [Verse 3]

The game is to be sold, but never told;

That’s been true since Snoop Dogg first said it over a decade ago

My lines are so bold because the world’s been so cold

A bigger expansion is happening than the Internet could hold

If you’re on parole, just let nature take its toll;

In a neighborhood patrolled by officers with no soul

In my hand I hold a treasure map; unfold it, find the gold

I’m a patriot for life; I got it tatted on the manifold

 

The martyr, self-starter; more nuts than Jimmy Carter

I go a little harder; take an English class for starters

Ain’t paying cash for shit; but got custom art for barter

Step on it five times to make it stretch a little farther

 

Carhartts in the closet; when it snows I feel smarter

Figure out the pecking order, and install a shock absorber

Without charges, the feds can disappear your son or daughter

Without a ransom note asking or other messages recorded

What’s this clown in the back mumbling and spouting off about

Diarrhea of the mouth; wipe off your lip and turn around

I’ll be aiming at the logo on your white New Era crown

Set the gun down on the bar, order Henny and sit down

Need for time to take its course and the witnesses to drown

If I ever land in court, I’m pushing counsel to the ground

You could call me “Hey Joe” because I’m Mexico bound

The feds are handing guns out to residents in border towns

 

Life story underground; shooting carbines off a mountain

Venture south into your town; take a piss in all the fountains

Eleven twenty-six; take a moment count it out

When you come up the answer, take another to shout it out

 

Live life right now; try to achieve proper balances

Go Skype with your accountant; have him hide your allowances

No more counting out ounces in countless confounded houses

Or a thousand mounted cops lounging in the houses surrounding us

 Young Gs bottom pic horses

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