Ali Vegas - Critics Lyrics

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Artist:	Ali Vegas
Song Title:	Critics
Visits:	822

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[Hook]

Y'all critics got a lot of nerve

Crab disease got the game muffled

A new king has emerged

I'm him to the third

[Verse 1]

Look since a young boy choking MC's with mic chords

When the night hits ball courts turn into dice boards

Got illegal two-ways instead of cell phones

Sixer fans switch to Clipper fans whenever L's home

Grew up in a foul hood, most of my childhood

A 9 to 5 couldn't get you the dough that vowels could

You know the streets brain washed me, play the game harshly

Drug dealers slang where the narks be

Make a sound to the cops and get found in the lot

Everybody come in town when you're hot

Nobody comes around when you're not

Always keep the round in the crouch

Whenever me and family decide to lounge on the block

Quick to pull it out if a clown get us hot

Seeing bullets fire from chrome, the sight of my dome

Standing on the block with dice and wireless phones

Y'all know the name, Ali Vegas and got divine right to the throne

[Hook]

[Verse 2]

Ayo

Niggas know I spit dangerously

That's why wherever I go they all call me Dangerous Lee

I don't care if we chill together you ain't hanging with me

This is for all my thugs thugging, keep banging your three

All my hustlers keep clubbing slanging yo E

Six brought my first bar, eight got brains in the V

You young cats ain't got morals no more

Quick to go to war with the four

Get knocked and tell it all to the law

Whatever happened to hustling, running out product and putting in an order

for more

This how I'ma read them the new rule

I'm like Busta 9-2

Cause now I'm the leader of new school

They say I'm too young to rhyme about coke

I got a father that sniffed it

A brother that pitched it

A cousin that flipped it

And that's for all y'all critics that wanna know why the rhyming's so dope

[Hook]

[Verse 3]

Look

I'm the young Prince of NY

Young, fly, sensible guy

All white T and air Ni-kes

When the temperature's hot

Old A's the only way I'm getting sent to the sky

Y'all permitted to try

But it's only one thing, if you miss it then you die

And it ain't no judge and jury, the commence'll get fired

Just my team in a tinted rented NY

Y'all heard Jada, it's a message in a bullet, Good-bye

Should have been spitting shells instead of palming your celly

It ain't no more shells, Beyonce's, and Kelly's

When lead hit yo leg, head, arm, and your belly

I know y'all say damn I'm so calm, but I'm deadly

Pull up to the prom or the telly

Hopped out the Serbians

Looking suburban, chicks swarming the Chevy

Associates is the staff of The Don

Vegas is back, but this time I ran and mastered my charm

[Hook]

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