Hieroglyphics - Chicago lyrics

rate me

Here we go

Souls

We got a show in Chicago

4 hours in flight, it seem like 25 though

call in the promoter

where is the chaffeur

out here it's hella cold

and where we from it don't snow

the wind chill'll crack a windsheild

waited for dude to pull up

packed it in and spin wheels

now we can blaze

checked into the tel and

take a shower and things

we only got an hour and change

Dj lets to went and bought a seagrams

mixed it with 7 up i had to fucking

took a couple moments to smoke i get to cheefin

knew at 6 o clock in the lobby we all meeting

you eat man

i'm hungry as fuck

the airplane food what's up with peking duck or some chicken chow mein 'fore we getting out on stage

lets do a quick about face and get down with a plate

i gotta energize my body with some sustenance

cuz i never know

what the fuck i'm up against

promoter rushing us

but i take my time though

we get there when we get there

nigger you know how i go

alive on arrival baby

show me your Hiero thong

and they playing my song

the crowds maniacle

check 1-2

turn up my monitor so

i can catch the vibes in here it gets phenomenal

honey in the front row climax that's when i feed money with the wire tap

ear piece behind the track

bored with the engineer

on the fringe of fear

as they both got

drenched with beer

to a vicious cheer

you could almost sense revenge was near

maintenance might need astringents here

bo! and the tension just startin to grow

i think the crowd thinks it's part of the show

i thought i left that part of the O with marvelous flow

like when niggers wouldn't back up

now we deep on stage like

callin me no

pardon me bro pardon me bro

pardon me man

excuse me

get the fuck out the way

wuddn't my fault know wha i'm sayin

i hear you

oh shit sierra

pounds drippin all on the oh 6

flex respects

ready to throw a fit

so meat head frat cat with that

abercrombie cap flipped back

damn near collapsed

my mind recaps seeing him backstage

with that bootlegged ninety three till vinyl

tryna get us to sign it

i could tell by his eyes

not laying in why

he was too high

headed for hard times

kept coming from the side

"yo daddy this our time"

you interrupt the set and sparks fly

even real fans throw their hands

yo plus get his legs

though i saw a touque fly

when old knucks hit his face

gotta couple swings in

fore i felt that stingin

burnin sensation(my eyes)

either pepper spray or mace shit

they tore down the place

while we stomped that boy

who the fuck said hip hop aint no contact sport