Team Napalm - Act Brand New lyrics
rate me[Intro: Infinite (Dom Pachino)]Yo, P. what's good (yeah, uh-huh)What's going on family, where you been at (Try'nna get my shit right, youknowhatimean?)Where you going with this music thing, man, I know you got some darts for the peopleTalk to me, man, what's good, man (listen, yo)[Dom Pachino]From padiums to colisseums, boy, you should see 'emNo longer they try'nna g' 'em, they try'nna be 'emTold a white lie, while Kryme flying in the BMYou got it good, kid, take a look, they dying when they see 'emWomen be eyeing, here's diamonds, when they see 'emHe's shining, he's winning, he's rhyming and his vinyls spinningDid the underground thing, but I got to make a livingWhen you see 'em, don't hate, think you could of been 'emThat's some good shit, considering the shit I've been throughGot a phone and that I can't attend toGuess I'm busy, bitch slapping these tracks til they busyAim for the sky, watch the king lie just like a frisbeeDon't forget battling is risky, that's why I keep the 5 to 50In case ya nigga is shifty[Chorus 2X: Infinite]Why these phony niggas always try to act brand newWord is bond, on our dick, when my Team come throughAye, aye, them boys ain't built like youStack ya chips, fuck a bitch, and respect that jewel[Infinite]I'll never stab you in the back or bullshit youNever asked to do anything that I won't doGive you my word, the fam is my gangsta's pledgeAnd if I go against the grain then I'm over the edgeI've survived many times when them gats put on meAnd survive my little time, you don't know me homeyBut you still eyeing me, like you want some dickRecognize who the fuck it is you dealing with, prickInf' was raised around killas, muthafuck' stardomFifteen, copping from paper, up in HarlemLow lifes busting they magnums in day lightYou so hype, stuck on dramatics, from gay fightsGive a fuck, you got toast, so pop ya triggersJail time is a privilege for some of my niggasSociety, bitches lie to me, got my sonIf I get nervous, niggas better talk for they gunsGot balls, hustle anyone's block, dare to fuck with meThe kid ain't yours, look at his face, you wish you run from me[Chorus 2X][Chapel]Yo, I might flip out, word up, and go ballisticSpitting rhymes, more hard than solid biscuitsI rip tracks, word up, and scrap a mistressPour an E&J, get myself twistedWhere ya name on the charts? You unlistedI seen you forcing your hand from close distanceMy whole style engage in persistenceI pulverize weak old cats, upon an instanceRip cats apart in my existenceMetaphors beautiful, boy, I'm just viciousYo whole style is frail, you're ficticiousYour whole team is wack, ya'll like bitches[Chorus 2X][Outro: Dom Pachino]It's Napalm, kid, knowhatimean?The fucking Team... here it is...Nahimean? I told ya'll niggas I was comingWith the muthafucking squadron, well here it isNapalm World, nigga...
