Talib Kweli & 9th Wonder - Pay Ya Dues (ft. Problem & Bad Lucc) [Lyrics/Paroles]

Talib Kweli & 9th Wonder - Pay Ya Dues (ft. Problem & Bad Lucc)

Pay Ya Dues Lyrics / Paroles

[Verse 1: Problem]
[?] on Compton concretes
R&B singers coming on fine sheets
[?], sparkling wines
Conceited hustle, obnoxious grind
Like gimme that bitch, gimme that
Like gimme that bitch, gimme that
All biz, never personal
Big bands, no rehearsal though
Showtime no cable box
The independent that all of the major labels watch
Grade us, analyze
Channel check, our revolution is televised
Hard days, long nights
Penitentiary chances, fuck it it's all light
Sit and thinking sorry mama, throw you clowns a couple dollars, y'all
Before you holla at a real nigga

[Verse 2: Bad Lucc]
Bad Lucc, grown man, full time, real nigga
Eyes that's against them it's intricate what I lived through
Dip my raps in acid and [?]
Walk with the illest, spark with my brothers it's [?]
Back and forth [?] peep your design
Studied all the legends, I'm soul attacking my G
Mos Def I'm a black star, ask Talib Kweli
Go insane Jack, I run it from way back
Duck Down, bust a shot now they want us to rain back
How did you do it, thuggin on dolo
Cash under a polo, tell a story of a young kid, wish as clear as a photo
Uh, like gimme that bitch, gimme that
Uh, like gimme that bitch, gimme that
You learned your lesson for holding out on a king
I pay my dues with blood and sweat and a diamond ring

[Verse 3: Talib Kweli]
Make the check out to Talib Kweli, esquire
You niggas ain't the best rappers y'all the best liars
You soft as summer rain, how you gonna bang
With the Clubber Lang, you gotta slang
Pay ya dues, nigga
I take it back like gimme that, gimme that
You fucking kidding, not cutting these niggas any slack
My hustle and flow allow me to pimp any track
You get whipped with your own pistol you skinny black
These niggas squeaking like sneaker soles on ball courts
I'm all [?] to civilise the savages on all fours
With shit you never thought of
The fucking phlegm I cough up is more rough than your stuff
Your little orphan Annie, I'm Daddy Warbucks rising across the battlefield on a war horse
My existence is your loss, all this bitch shit is your fault
You scavengers, passengers riding shotgun
Sort of caught off guard, get on your job nigga

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