The Mountain

from $14 and a Record Player by Terrence Wood

/

lyrics

Verse 1:

I don’t make records for radios and clubs
I make bangers with crazy lows for subs
It’s like drugs I slang over the organ
nothing but oldheads in my gang like Duke Morgan
What’s Happening? I’m rappin in my bedroom recording
scratchin wax with idle hands, it happened out of boredom
mixed and sort’em on a hard drive and stored’em
left’em for dead post one now they postmordem (more them)
some call me Terrence, some call me Side
It don’t apply to the rest if they don’t comply
my years 'added up' and blessings start to 'multiply'
don’t get 'subtracted' out the faction tryna cause 'divide'
It’s Mathematics Mos Definitely, music sound menacing
beat deafening, sounds like a day of reckoning
meant to intimidate any second string fledgling
who ain't old enough to catch everything I’m referencing
they unequipped, even when I brag I’m on my humble shit
guess it don’t matter what you saying if you mumble it
took the time to write it down instead you need to crumble it
I wonder who tied your shoes for you cause you dumb as shit

Hook:

I’ma keep pushin'
Dancin' and movin' like they ain’t lookin'
Even though I know they are, yeah the loves bizarre
keep adding up the numbers I ain’t even countin'
I see you running while I’m walking on down the mountain

Verse 2:

I’m tryna hit’em like that Melle Mel Beat Street second verse
prophetic with it gotta listen to the record first
don’t be a slave to no computer he was saying then
He ain’t waste a pen it still apply to the days we in
tryna roll a pair of dice and get to paradise
it’s all a gamble when ya ice look like Vegas lights
them young buls they ain’t tryna hear ya pain and strife
teeth shining while you talk you coming off that chain tonight
in the Wraith like they studying astronomy
make thugs discharge them slugs dishonorably
dude deliver food and do uber gig economy
can’t compare or share the same air no synonymy
tryna be a motivation with your gadgets and gizmos
make’em pull out the big nose ratchet and grip those
busy talkin bout all your plans, leave’em out
cause they over here killing everything you're dreaming bout
forget the truth the lie is more entertaining
people crappy and they hating everything that make you happy
call the Barbecue Becky and the Permit Patty
They be blowing out your fire before you roll up ya fatty

Hook:

I’ma keep pushin'
Dancin' and movin' like they ain’t lookin'
Even though I know they are, yeah the loves bizarre
keep adding up the numbers I ain’t even countin'
I see you running while I’m walking on down the mountain

Copyright: Whitmore Skillz Music 2020

credits

from $14 and a Record Player, released February 21, 2021
written by Terrence Wood
produced by DreamLife Beats

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Terrence Wood Austin, Texas

Terrence Wood
aka Side Effect

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