Loaded Lux - Rite Lyrics
[feat. Redman & Method Man][Hook:]My vision gettin' clearerI'm lookin' in the mirrorI'm sayin' to myself "that's a fly nigga"Harlem is the city, got all my niggas with meYou know that they get busy, "let's ride nigga"Dah, dah, daditty dah dee dah, daditty dah dee dayYou niggas know I'm hot "Rite"Dah, dah, daditty dah dee day, daditty dah dee dayYou tryin' to take my spot "Rite"[Verse 1: Loaded Lux]Play the bench the starter's is stayin' inMy thinking cap on I'm 'bout ready to raise the brimBeen bathing in the money so honeys the fakers wentI got enough fans ain't looking to make a friendBad news for niggas with rap movesThe facts prove I way up in the stat poolIf cash rules the bread good then you fast foodThought I left, but I right on 'em like tattoosMirror on the wall, who's the flyest of allMaybe the monologue, or fancy designer clothesBuyin' out the bar for baby behind the barSo you can tell them niggas retire I'm on my jobThey want me as a martyrDrop the hem or a mamaRIP out to Huddy and light a candle for HarlemBring the niggas that knew me and *****es that love me truly100 bands in the box and bury me in my Gucci(Beloved)[Hook][Verse 2: Redman]All my fans say ***** you in they fan mailCause I had they main girl on a hand-heldI go to the store they try to pop my fan-beltThen I body 'em in the street like Cornbread EarlBoy I'm that thorough, I'm like a pitbullWindex in the pen to make it crystal170 but in rap I'm a big dudeSo yeah, I got bars like a Gym RoomBoy I'm that dirtySo tell the rap JuryThat tennis, The only way a nigga gon' serve meMy black Mac Bernie, I even mat suriShit I'm killin' the Mic Like Conrad MurrayGet ya weight up boy, you wan' hustle with itEven my protein bars got muscle in itPop my trunk, Pop Yours nothin' in itI'm Cool so hol' up, Wait a minute[Hook][Verse 3: Method Man]Lux I'm Loaded 'bout ready to spit a verseOn hater's I unloaded be ready to get his hearseI'm bout to send him notice If Harlem don't get him firstSend him down to unemployment cause homey gone get this workHot Benz, every honey is top tenIf she Hops in, then mo' than likely we not friendsLook I'm locked in, Hit you like Skelly, your top spinFirst I pop, then I'm out like Pirelli's on stock rimsFlyest in the game, still applyin' the painSince Milk was Top Billin', and Lyte was ridin' the trainThese paper thin villains get scraped and thrown in the flame85% of rappers is fake and so is they chainNow that's a no-brainer36 in my ChamberNow a moment of silence I throw a L up for BangaLyricist not a SingaDon't ever forget it's GangstaLadies they get the thumbs up coppers they just get the finga(Beloved)[Hook]
