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    T-bone Follow T текст песни

    Follow T

    You can catch me in the big body S-Class wit chrome spinners
    Pulling up to the club wit a brim, ice and the chinchilla
    Stacking that skrilla in a legal way
    Rock stadiums from Nicaragua down to San Tropez, hey
    And I ain’t even gotta curse in my raps
    I keep it gully while I’m spitting this fire on hot tracks
    My skills speak for themselves
    I’m like a young LL back in the day when he was rocking the bells
    The Sly Stallone of the microphone, I’m old school like Special K
    Turbo and Ozone, rep for my people like I’m Che Guevara
    Wit a derby and linen pants plus a guallavera
    Oh, I’m so sick they sending ambulances to resuscitate the mic from my verbal thrashing
    Cash advances, and top brand fashion
    Guaranteed to rock the spot and keep the party peeps dancing

    I had to switch up the flow for all the DJ’s spinning wax in the club
    So when ya hear my joint yall better turn it up, louder
    Suvelo, blast that music bro, respect the flow, ya listening to a music pro
    The Burt Bacharach of rap is back ready to make ya move ya body And lean back like Joe Crack
    Woah get ya hands in the air and wave them back and forth in the atmosphere
    I know ya wondering if the rumors are true, believe the hype
    I am the dopest rapper to come through wit brand new series of rap arts like kung fu
    You don’t believe me, ya crew could get hung to
    I run through anybody opposing
    Don’t make me have to tell you again
    I’m Gods chosen, like Peter, Matthew, Mark, Luke and John
    Now everybody just bounce to this new hit song, What!

    From sold out arenas to the silver screen
    I move crowds and drop hits that make the people scream
    Stack cream, get chauffeured in stretched out limousines
    I’m a hot album, you just a ahhh 16
    T-Bone is hard as it gets and I don’t fly first class, why?
    I travel with chef’s on private jets
    That’s why you mad and upset, homie
    I paid my dues though, been ripping these mic’s since tape decks
    So place your bets, I’m the best yet
    Move the crowd and make ya bounce like bad checks
    I got next, like the WNBA, defeating me is like blacks joining the KKK
    It won’t happen, like hoods without guns clapping
    Or hip-hop wit no DJ’s and MC’s rapping
    It’s contradictory, none of you’ll ever get wit me
    The dopest to ever breathe on a mic and claim victory

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