Представляем точный текст композиции "Hands In The Air" и глубже погружаем в смыслы творчества артиста 8Ball & MJG . Эта интерпретация слов песни помогает лучше понять смысл заложенный в композицию. Лирика «Hands In The Air» — это не просто строчки, а история, которую 8Ball & MJG передаёт через ритм и интонации. Изучайте переводы, оригинальные версии и толкования, чтобы раскрыть все грани этого трека.
8Ball & MJG - "Hands In The Air"
Lyrics to Hands In The Air : [Eightball] Okay; comin from the top of my Dome when Im droppin my Own type of style, and Aint nobody stoppin my Rise to the very top Hit em up wit all I got Superstar; no Im not Green weed; black glock Everybody want a piece Dirty like a pair a cleats Niggers run their mouth a lot Like bitches and parakeets (whoa) How you love that pimpin (whoa) Im so cold wit it (whoa) Make all the boys wanna do it just because I did it Im like a legend or Some kind of prophecy Sent here to set you free Dress, player, follow me Into another world Deep inside your own soul This shit here way bigger than tattoos and cornrolls This not bout makin dough Not bout no fakin yo Not bout whos rich o po Not bout who niggaz know This here bout you and me This here bout poetry This here bout who we be If you in here with me [Chorus] Keep your ears wide open This is all grill no jokin Throw your motherfuckin hands up in the air If you feel me throw your hands up in the air Better keep your ears open This is all grill no boastin Throw your hands up in the motherfuckin air If you feel me throw your hands up in the air The motherfuckin aaaaair [Eightball] Nigga you dont know me Why you niggaz wanna beef' All in my grill like You the papparazzi Boy I was fulla game Way before this rap thang Real fore the money came Thats why I will never change Me - aint nobody like Even though they try to be Niggaz think they are but they aint fuckin with me lyricly (Yo) I was born wit it Dint nobody teach it to me Over hot beef Tell you bout what the streets did to me (Yo) Chose me to be a Prophet and lead my people Murder non-believers With lyrics that are lethal I hit em heavy with it Yo I stay ready wit it Come try to test me wit it Regret you ever did Call who a pimp and I got my own back You got them baby paper' I got them grown stacks But this aint bout no bread Not bout what niggaz said Not bout what hoes believe If you in here with me [Chorus] [Eightball] Yeah I gotta go again Just to let you know the deal Eight ways to company Beats come from doin real (yeah) We the niggaz should not nobody be fuckin wit Slayer riders Chopper city Had you bitches doubled quick This aint bout who rap the best This aint bout who got the most This is not no gangsta rap This aint bout no pimps and hoes This here aint no country shit Aint no way to label this Memphis where I come from Orange mile veteran What I represent - whoever live in poverty Hard working niggaz that Try to hustle honestly And I represent who Lookin good and feelin nice Niggaz on there drinkin dro Fresh clothes; full of ice (Yeah) We gon keep this slummin comin with the dirtiest (Yeah) If you from the gutter then I know you heard of this This aint bout where you from This aint bout where you be This here bout feelin free If you in here with me [Chorus] [Eightball] Go head and put em up Put your hands where I can see em Put your hands where I can see em Go head and put em up Put your hands where I can see em Put your hands where I can see em [unknown voice talking] Yeah, eight ways, doo-rilla Code line Slab two is goin down baby This your boy Milwaukee Stop prayin [ Hands In The Air Lyrics ]
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