Ginger Breadman – For The Culture Lyrics

For The Culture Lyrics By Ginger Breadman

verse 1
This game is all about composure
Look at me, focused
Dropped three sixteens, had the streets open
Rappers need closure
See the bar, take a few shots and leave sober
D.U.I (ah uh), D.O.A, stack chips like Frito Lay
Who am I! doing suicide drills over beef, killed a live show
I’m the audio Picasso, Mr. Nice guy I’m the asshole
True or lie, False, you deny, Alla Hu AkBars, God Flow
Twenty heaven years all spitting North Pole
And my pen has severed many heads
Might as the sword and the stone
Put an end to overnight carers, BAH

verse 2
This game is all about com-pose
Look, zoom , focus
Three sixteens is one forty eight
Had the streets open, so rappers need closure
Listen closer, bars as in standard
So never D.U.I who could Frito Lay
You already know what D.O.A means
Dead Or Alive, hence do or die
Type that would suicide, killin live
Nigga who am I, I’m an artist
I paint pictures like Picasso
I’m a pretty nice guy but mean with the bars yo
True or lie, False, you deny, Alla Hu Ak- wait
True or false, they deny when they should allow
Me to be great, God flow
So instead of twenty seven I be twenty heaven years old
Spitting this cold but the imagery of North Pole
Way better, less effort
The pen is mightier than Excalibur so heads get severed
I’m that sharp, I’m rhyming to the beat of my chest
Now that’s heart, even when I mumble under my breath
That’s art, you bet, on that card, numero Ace
Ahead of my time, now fast forward

bridge
Give me my props, le ska batla ho ntlhantsa
I’m a monster, few who do it For The Culture
Said we wouldn’t make it that far, re tla ba bontsha
Who behind me, Trill gang, ra ba konka