Talk Is Cheap Lyrics

[Intro: Fes Taylor]
Please listen to my demo (yeah)
But please listen to my demo (uh-huh)
But please listen to my demo
But please listen to my demo

[Fes Taylor:]
Now every rapper claim he the illest
Every rapper with a chain claim he a killa
'Til he faces situations, Die Harder than Bruce Willis
We'll grapefruit a nigga, snatch ya chain and kill ya
Yeah, I don't really feel ya
Fake niggaz kneal to The Great when I appear to ya
Life's gettin' scarier, knights in ya areas
Actin' like the cops is inferior
Blocks, funeral homes, they bury ya
My pants heavier, I carry calibers
The size of excalibur, lookin' for a challenger
I twist a silencer, life more violenter
Homies twist a Valentine, I'm tryin' to do algebra
Hip hop calenders, Get Fresh crew staff
Nah, you ain't down, where the dollars in ya shoe path?
I fool around, when it come to hoes, bitches come and go
Plus I'm a go, right down to their under clothes
See my hunger grow, I could make the summer snow
So I hustle slow, Benz, get a couple those
Air bubble those, or the J.O.'s
Whatever throws, hotels, clothes, hoes, own a couple those
Yeah, a couple shows, now I'm comfortable
This dough is nothin' though, can't front, I love it yo
See Taylor 2 Fly, I'm in the Coupe high
Numbers do lie, if ya payin' for ya air time
You see my beard line, and the Dax wave grease make my hair shine
'07 year, mine, see the people in my buildin' fear crime
But my hood grow, f**k and sell crack, this year mine
And the snitches be the ones you smoke blunts with
Get ya daughter kidnapped, probably get ya son hit

[Chorus: Fes Taylor]
See the streets made me and OG's raised me
To be a G, so what you niggaz could say to me? (Nothing)
See my peoples love me cause my peoples hungry
So I feed 'em steak, we was eatin' lunch meats
They try and leave the streets, I'm tryin' to lead the streets
Open businesses, oppurtunities, we can eat

[Fes Taylor:]
Paper chaser, Henny with no chasers
Still, I could spit it with no paper, pencil or eraser
My money getters, honey hitters, might find ya bunny missin'
I ain't trickin', get it twisted, listen
Taylor, I stitch it and sew it up
Now I learned, put money away, so I guess I'm growin' up
Still post up, six in the mornin', catch a smoker rush
Game in the cobra clutch, you like a broken Dutch
You a grown ass man, how you broke as f**k?
Crack niggaz in half, he'll feel it when he sober up
Football dreams, a good boy needs
You was headed down the right path, avoidin' the fiends
I was headed down Main Street avoidin' the D's
You know, G's claim streets, Rolls Royce through the P's
Yeah, I gotta speak, I'm the voice of the P's
Top five rappers, I'm the choice of the thieves
Hoes yo, have they putty moist and they weave
Lookin' like a hurricane hit 'em when they leave
No disrespect, no hurricanes on my feet
And you'll never catch me with a hurricane in the street
Talk liquor bottles, talk thicker models
I toured different obsticles all the time, nigga
They try and leave the streets, I'm tryin' to lead the streets
Open businesses, oppurtunities, we can eat

[Chorus x2]

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Record Label(s): 2015 Chambermusik Special Products

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