Lyrics

Originals X

Strait out the city bro
Wasn’t that simple though
We ain’t your lil bros
We the originals

We the originals
We the originals
We the originals
We the originals

Spitters aint spitting flows
Them lyrics ain’t lyrical
We metaphysical
We the originals ahhh

We the originals
We the originals
We the originals
Whoa, Whoa, Whoa, Whoa


Ghetto life could change children
Walking with my brain missing
Living like I aint living
All that free game I gave away you claim you aint get it
When I get the bag everybody eats like thanksgiving

All these rappers dying, wonder if these labels grave digging
Now they own our masters man they treat us like some slave children

They destroyed our ways and aint no one come and save children
Boston X, Stay tripping, hawk em leave the blade in em
Pop him till his face splitting
Possibly, the property will probably have surveillance’s
Do not get yo face in it, this an insane business

I ain’t trying to trade, trade, trade, trade, trade with ya
Im just going to take, bang bang till his face ripping
Even if he ain’t wit it
Why do NX hate, why we don’t appreciate NX

Why do people hate, that is played, played, played
We on our marathon bout to wiggle out they MAZE