Holy Moly music video
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Holy Moly lyrics | |
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As a kid growing up in brooklyn, my pops was a DJ he had a bunch of records: Funk, jazz, rhythm & blues, soul know what I'm sayin there was this one gospel record i liked, like, like like Holy Molly, I might get some religion and leave ya holy holy, ya this rhyme so fat its rolly polly ill give intimate details so you can get to know me, these corporate rapers like why this dude pickin on me you rap your way to the top but now its gettin lonely, kids is hungry and you lookin like steak from nick and tony's but don't nobody want your jewels cause ya shit is phony say word yo shit is real, yo shit is corny, rhymes turn a new page like mark foley and touch kids like when larry clark gave the part to chloe, rest in peace to Harold Hunter, the greatest from New York who started out skating for Zoo York, word hangin out at the gavin, i was very lucky the talk to rash once i got past Darren Dudley, got him on respiration that's pre-Badu bet you Garnett Reid got a Matt Doo tattoo, some times it feels like im drowning i gotta tread water head above the water i always remember headquarters heads up eyes open i got my mind focused i find hope inside a line, my rhymes defines opus sometimes hopeless people fill my soul with evil my record so hard it broke the needle, at the mixtape awards niggas act like they don't give a f**k though disrespect the legacy of Justo what the blood clot? no, let the blood flow you aint come to pay your respect then what you come fo, too many good niggas die, it's like a stop loss good niggas ghetto like fried wings and hot sauce, how you hard the cops lettin 50 shots off baby jay-z's with the knock off Scott Storch beat you are not Short you are not Katt you not a playa or a pimp money stop that, learn to masta your speech and be eloquent rappers keep peddlin sweets the beats weaker than gelatin, we used to kick em dust and now we settling rest to peace to Dilla, Weldon we can't forget you professor x and proof we miss you word, rest in peace to Shakka, 21 gun salute in the air like Bloc! Bloc! Bloc! Still here cause your livin through me your like a gift god give it to me. uh uh uh what! Holy Moly reviews
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