Upcoming Concerts for RATKING
Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
RATKING
Performer
Eric Adiele
Performer
Hakeem Lewis
Performer
Patrick Morales
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Eric Adiele
Songwriter
Hakeem Lewis
Songwriter
Patrick Morales
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Eric Adiele
Producer
Hakeem Lewis
Mixing Engineer
Patrick Morales
Mixing Engineer
Brad Hurst
Mixing Engineer
Max Eisenberg
Mixing Engineer
Tony Dawsey
Engineer
Gimel Keaton
Mixing Engineer
Lyrics
Swelled up and I am blue, purple from bruises
Just a few couple several rusty screws loose
No way in hell I'm letting you move thus
What you mugs might consider think say fuses
Heckling heads that though I'd slip stupid
Snuggle up to my sound now as if I shot like cupid
My lans, my people spit it up to soothe it
Rearrange with the ruses that rose so ruthless
Since I was little, I was tied to the music
Ya should've gone in the first day you flew in
Instead wasted years beating off and goofing
Dropped out of high but remained a student
Not one for great speeches but I think I'll say
Unsown my mouth with words decayed
Knees sore walk off the pain, poets die and poems stray
No day at the beach hopefully
Try not to slip in of the beast, 'til our next ride 'til we leave
I need what I eat so i keep eating 'til I'm full
Mean what I speak so I keep speaking til I'm through
As I grew pursued brew, don't look at me rude dude
You ain't never cruised in my shoes, my Clydes
So don't act like you know what you ain't knew, my life
Spit crack, live rap, while my boy weighed OZ's
Coke? No weed low-key, I drank OE, 'til theres no left, only
Thing got gold left's the tostones
Pops cooked away the trouble of his day
All the Oxy out his cupboard that I ate, vomit
Step in the puddle that'd I make, and everything I'm busting is straight, truths
Everything you publishing is fake
Back to the Ox the pain up in my stomach that it gave
Made me nauseous when i'd eat, vomit when I'd speak
In school, it made me cautious when I'd sleep
Dr. Degraff please don't call up my dad, tell him all the possible paths
I could have took. I should have took, I would have took
If I hadn't heard or, I wouldn't look
At that certain song or that certain image
When I was living in singular digits, now its double and it's trouble
One nine son blind, by the rubble
I am breakfast, lunch and dinner
Be my saint I'll be your sinner
You're too near not to hear as we ride
Beat don't hurt your feelings, then what's the point, no point
Came to you running, heard you starving, glad I heard your hunger
Writer(s): Patrick Garland Morales, Eric Christopher Adiele, Hakeem Toure Lewis
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com