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The Amalgamate Video (MV)




Performed By: Ramos
Length: 3:21
Written by: Jonathan Ramos




Ramos - The Amalgamate Lyrics




Yea, Yea, Yea
Skip to my Lou down Northeast 163rd Street, hot concrete never get cold feet
Some of my peeps don't even got a visa, they'll Frisk ya for the features
So, I keeps a bishop on the hip, A Rook in the trunk
A Knight in the hood, a Queen in the passenger
This is Chess not checkers these birds can't fathom this, equipped
Keep my ducks in a row like Gordon Bombay, cornish hens that pass by is waving
Cot Damn, I reject propriety, Keep cats off the streets like Humane Societies
Yea, I don't check dudes I check mate, might jack son bills like I moved upstate
Might have to start something gives my mans a stake
See, ya'll don't know the half of what I contemplate, huh
Drive slow and I'm blasting Muddy Waters
My, mans round the corner, asking me about the quota
I, Get behind bars like Andy Dufresne, then I get it out the mud, and I maintain
We reclines back in Sedan's, 10 latins, 10 zo's with a vision that's 20/20 pimping
Boy we sliding and slipping, we popping and gripping
Since Slip and Slide records had the city rocking with it, ya

I, function in conjunction when in bunches
Slip through the cracks of trickle down economies
We gallop rather quietly
Find loopholes, and run dolo to saloons and lampoon cats
Check ya ego at the door, ya heard
There's always someone out here thinking that they want a little more
And that'll be the end of that, We can't eat if we fighting for scraps, jit, tighten up quick
Mid 20's crisis' we live through the vices, And we gon' switch grinds if they switching up the prices
Believe it, boy we on it for a reason, now, for the cheese get small as Martin Freeman
This ain't acting, make it stretch, let my dogs fetch that like Armstrong, and I'm gone
We trying to get up out this life on the real, see job applications, they never had the same appeal
I swindle like Frank Costello, and talk game like Mike Fratello, So I'm straight
Spend chips on the strip I'm Pete Bell, we do it the Hardaway, parlay for longevity
Me, and my syndicate, move autonomous, shift in auto's anonymous, carribean amalgamate
Hold me down through the thick and thin
You gotta keep your word first before we trust in anything
If you eat, than I do too, and vice versa
But if we let it digest than we can feed the whole crew
So, is you wit me or what cuz, huh, the world is us what
Yea
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.


We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.




Yea, Yea, Yea
Skip to my Lou down Northeast 163rd Street, hot concrete never get cold feet
Some of my peeps don't even got a visa, they'll Frisk ya for the features
So, I keeps a bishop on the hip, A Rook in the trunk
A Knight in the hood, a Queen in the passenger
This is Chess not checkers these birds can't fathom this, equipped
Keep my ducks in a row like Gordon Bombay, cornish hens that pass by is waving
Cot Damn, I reject propriety, Keep cats off the streets like Humane Societies
Yea, I don't check dudes I check mate, might jack son bills like I moved upstate
Might have to start something gives my mans a stake
See, ya'll don't know the half of what I contemplate, huh
Drive slow and I'm blasting Muddy Waters
My, mans round the corner, asking me about the quota
I, Get behind bars like Andy Dufresne, then I get it out the mud, and I maintain
We reclines back in Sedan's, 10 latins, 10 zo's with a vision that's 20/20 pimping
Boy we sliding and slipping, we popping and gripping
Since Slip and Slide records had the city rocking with it, ya

I, function in conjunction when in bunches
Slip through the cracks of trickle down economies
We gallop rather quietly
Find loopholes, and run dolo to saloons and lampoon cats
Check ya ego at the door, ya heard
There's always someone out here thinking that they want a little more
And that'll be the end of that, We can't eat if we fighting for scraps, jit, tighten up quick
Mid 20's crisis' we live through the vices, And we gon' switch grinds if they switching up the prices
Believe it, boy we on it for a reason, now, for the cheese get small as Martin Freeman
This ain't acting, make it stretch, let my dogs fetch that like Armstrong, and I'm gone
We trying to get up out this life on the real, see job applications, they never had the same appeal
I swindle like Frank Costello, and talk game like Mike Fratello, So I'm straight
Spend chips on the strip I'm Pete Bell, we do it the Hardaway, parlay for longevity
Me, and my syndicate, move autonomous, shift in auto's anonymous, carribean amalgamate
Hold me down through the thick and thin
You gotta keep your word first before we trust in anything
If you eat, than I do too, and vice versa
But if we let it digest than we can feed the whole crew
So, is you wit me or what cuz, huh, the world is us what
Yea
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Jonathan Ramos
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

Back to: Ramos

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