Vinyl Days Lyrics
[Intro]
Yeah-yeah, yeah
Vinyl Days, DJ Premier
That's my homie, that's my idol
On the road to success but you're idle
6ix on the beat, RattPack, motherf*cker, let's go
Here we go, let's get it all
[Verse]
All I need is one mic, one pen, one page to ignite
Subject matter heavy but the flow is MC Lyte
You mad as f*ck, all you see is red like a conservative
All the critics do is talk, I'm really not concerned with it
Hell is hot and we can make your residency permanent
Several shots, they tyin' up your body with a tourniquet
Let it rock, it's obvious that he don't know who turn it is
Keep my circle tight-knit 'cause people move deceitful
Money and greed will expose you to the root of evil
Already proved myself, not worried 'bout who's my equal
Far from an anti-vaxxer but I moved the needle
Shit got me wonderin' if what I do is legal
f*ck it, I'm goin' a hunnid in this Buick Regal
f*ck it, I'm goin' a hunnid playin' Beanie Sigel
You still run that old game, like a Neo Geo
You lookin' for me? I'ma be in Rio
Sunbathin' off the coast, sippin' Pinot Grigio
Out the country so much they like, "Easy, gringo"
Straight off the two-track, don't need a single
Travelled abroad for my catalog
Made all this money recording raps on my Macintosh, call it Apple sauce
Even with the cameras off, I be spazzin', dawg
Drum machine, analog, the North Face camouflage
That lo-fi dusty, Panasonic with the trackin' off
Marijuana smoke fill the air like L.A. traffic smog
Come on, homie, listen to the voice of reason
Yeah, you talk a lot of shit but don't want the beef like a vegan
Was passin' through like the aux channel
And then I fell asleep on you, shit, we call you the golf channel
I'm barbecue grillin' these rappers in Croc sandals
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Got money to cop Lambos but I'd rather chop samples
Many lines, many rhymes, shit, gutter like Pennywise
Shoutout Big Brother, got many eyes
I'm like Malcolm peekin' through the mini-blinds
f*ckin' with Logic, that's the reason that you stop breathing
Cardiac arrest caught you at your chest
Should've wore a vest, now you all a mess
You no kind of threat, you should've wore a dress
Polo high-tech with the navy crest
Cut from the cloth you couldn't thread with a needle
Bought the shit at Fred Segal, got your bitch spread eagle
The revolution won't be televised, they tellin' lies
They wanna strip your soul away and lead you to a world that's dry
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