The Group Home

The Group Home - Oh Sweet America lyrics

rate me

{Melachi The Nutcracker}

Aiyo, New York tracks, keep me phat like that

I exercise with fitness, to support my back

It's going on black, and I'm out to get mines

Bust in the place with a New York rhyme

Yo some people are mindless, and don't know what the time is

Mess around with the wrong one, and get expired

I'm gettin fired, offa the smoke and the blunts

Killin big bids offa a gangsta hunt

Don't front, what do you want? I push a trick with a stunt

We got out of town hits, and like George likes Pits

Cuz I flex with a Polo around my wrist

Nothing changed...

{Lil Dap}

Uh, my bad decision in the game got me flippin on cats

Now that I'm back, puttin Brooklyn down on the map

Cuz you know this camera's on me, and my sons right now

Pimpin our sounds, watch how we Tear Shit Down

I cause blow a catastrophe, I master thee

The game of rap, so don't fuck with Dap, I dance with my track

You bust you neen, I bust my nena back

Rhymes sharp like thumbtacks, with enough contacts

To blow my enemies off the map, If they try to attack...

Chorus 2X: Lil Dap

Oh Sweet America, how could it be?

Can't see my people dying in the streets no more

Got to hustle from the bottom just to feed the poor

Understanding what's right, realizing what's wrong

*(second time, the last line gets left out)*

{Melachi The Nutcracker}

Yo I salute the mic, when I take flight

Plus my styles real hype, and I'm feeling allright

So go with the flow, let's see what all of you know

I flip like G.I. Joe, with mad potential

I'm about to get mine, you know it's about that time

My people losing their mind, off the Group Home rhyme

Murdering crime, people on the streets playing for keeps

Brand new jeeps, riding thru on the creep

Who care? I guess that everyone is scarred

Better be preparred, cuz the worst is near

The Group Home is here, open your ears and stand clear

Crack your bears, we've been doing this for years

Chorus 2X

{Lil Dap}

How could it be? Cuz if you bust for me, I have to bust for you

These old school rules, got me spittin lyrics at you

I'm thinking hard and serious and going back to the time

When cats were scarred to death to even say that they rhyme

Cuz it was off the meters, niggas had to throw their dick beaters

Block parties with heaters, no crooked to feed us

It's 7 days in a week, 12 months in a year

But between the nonsense we'll drop a jewel this year

Keep your eyes open, stoppin off the ends when we rock

Poppin your clutch, and starving mc's to rock

And walk with fear, keepin my momentum in gears

Excess is near, my niggas can smell it in your ear

2000 and beyond, Group Home are bombing ya, son

My crew number one, no competion

Chorus 3X

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