Carry On Tradition Songtext / Lyric

Niggas wanna talk about this rap shit... Niggas wanna talk

about this money... 'Bout these cars... these homes... these

labels, clothes, sneakers... Big money shit... Now e'erybody

tryna get rich... Then get rich nigga fuck it






[Verse 1:]

Some rap pioneers be them crack heads, when they speak

You see missin' teeth, silver chain wit' a silver piece

Niggas ya grandfather age

They pants still hangin' down they leg talkin' 'bout they ain't paid

And they hate you 'cause they say you ain't paid dues

And - was stealin' and robbin' 'em

I feel it's a problem we gotta resolve

Hip-Hop been dead, we the reason it died

Wasn't Sylvia's fault or 'cause MC's skills are loss

It's 'cause we can't see ourselves as a boss

Deep rooted through slavery, self hatred

The Jewish stick toegther, friends in high places

We on some low level shit

We don't want niggas to ever win, see everybody got a label

Everybody's a rapper but few flow fatal

It's fucked up it all started from two turntables



[Chorus:]

When they crown you, and you rise up

To ya position, carry on tradition

When they knight you, and you go to fight, go to war

Don't petition, carry on tradition

Carry on tradition, carry, c-carry on tradition

Carry on tradition, when you rep what we rep

You carry on tradition



[Verse 2:]

Now some of these new rappers got they caps flipped backwards

Wit' the fingers intertwined in some gang sign madness

I got an exam to see if y'all pass it

Let's see who can quote a Daddy Kane line the fastest

Some of you new rappers I don't understand ya code

You have ya man shoot you like in that Soprano episode

Do anything to get in the game, mixtapes

You spit hate against bosses, hungry fucks are marvelous

You should be tossed in a pit full of unfortunate

Vocalists, niggas I could have wrote ya shit

I had off time, was bored wit' this, I could have made my double LP

Just by samplin' different parts of the Nautilus

Still came five on the charts wit' zero audience

The lane was open and y'all was droppin' that garbage shit

Y'all got awards for ya bricks, it got good to ya

You started tellin' the bigger dogs to call it quits? What?!



[Chorus]



[Verse 3:]

Now niggas got the studio poppin' it's mad clearer

Engineers got us ear plugs and still hear us

The live in the park sound

Versus the state of the art sound we on the charts now

From British walkers and Argyles

Look at us rap stars now, wit' our black cards now

Fortune 500 listed, brunch at Cipriani's

Sippin', blunted, wit' rich white guys around me

Thick white girls around me, Chinese lined up

'Cause I'm what, every dime lust

We use to be a ghetto secret, can't make my mind up

If I want that, or the whole world of people

Now I carry on tradition

Fuck a bum wack rapper makin' his career out of dissin'

Peace to the strugglin' artists and dead ones gone

We miss 'em, I promise I'mma carry on tradition



[Chorus]