Sharp

[Intro: Wale] K.B. what up? Jonas what up? Haha. Check it. Uh [Chorus: Wale] And it weighs a ton Dub A.L.E., such a son of a gun And I master every trade under the sun Talk sharp like a razor blade under the tongue, nigga And it weighs a ton Dub A.L.E., such a son of a gun And I master every trade under the sun Talk sharp like a razor blade Ha, uh [Verse 1: Wale] There's nothin' like where I come from That's why I shed light on the dark I come form Nigeria inspired the talk drum The sole proprietor of the globe from our sun I own it, now everybody on it My mind's so bright when that when I go in You can't notice it no mo', so if I talk down to a man Not only do I enlighten but I provide a tan Hoppin' out a van, braggin' because I am Draped in green and red like flag of Sudan While you pretendin, you niggas so pretentious I love a Tracey Ross but I don't keep a girlfriend, look Warm is a pen from the hand from the head That whatever it creates it will land in the head Of the pack of the group, they lack what I do You would think that I had a match for a tooth And I snap like Bob Backlund in the booth To bad bitches I'm about as bashful as Luke I freak nicks into Swishers Two dyke bitches while I'm filmin' them picnic, yum The District's son, prodigal, the Prodigy That's Mobb Deep and that is no pun, dude Straight bad bitches I run through I pull out when I'm cummin', I love to be redundant So I'm hopin' that your period is punc-tual On time, one rhyme Wale Folarin huh, holler at me [Chorus: Wale] And it weighs a ton Dub A.L.E., such a son of a gun And I master every trade under the sun Talk sharp like a razor blade under the tongue, nigga And it weighs a ton Dub A.L.E., Still a son of a gun And I master every trade under the sun Talk sharp like a razor blade Ha [Verse 2: Torae] The bars razor blade sharp and no Cold, Antarctic flow, rap nigga, you ought to know See my name on a flier then you ought to go My arsenal, makes for an awesome show And the discography, somethin' you got to see It's like I snatched names off of classic LP's I guess I sort of did and I call it Daily Conversation, abbreviation I made it D.C The home of Wale, formerly home of me I did a little stint, shout out to the south east And slid back north of course to pen more Awesome thoughts, record and forward to y'all Underrated so I over charge Bars is over y'all They hot now, when Tor' drop it's over for 'em I'm light years ahead of you right tiers So the homie Wale can leave the hook right Jeah [Chorus: Wale] I'm a son of a gun Dub A.L.E., such a son of a gun And I master every trade under the sun Talk sharp like a razor blade under the tongue, nigga [Bridge: Kingpin Slim] And it weighs a ton My name's Kingpin Slim and I'mma son of a gun And I master every trade under the sun Talk sharp like a razor blade Ha [Verse 3: Kingpin Slim] I'm important to the impostors, boppers Impressed with my pimp posture Team shine hard, you'll squint at the roster Fuck around you gon' need a stint at the doctors Clown be careful, fuck boys you should be fearful We tote toast like we cheerful Cheers, I flash smiles at the mean looks Got a little too much confidence to seem shook Use my watch as a pawn to get your queen took I got a fetish for fresh, I'm a clean crook And I don't need a coupon when I cop a Coupe Cause I'm a baller all y'all niggas do is block the hoop You're sayin' that's your girl, she's a prostitute I treat her neck like a net when I stop and shoot Swish, even if I miss she gon' rebound Homie, got the industry watchin' DMV now I know they gon' see me unless they senile I pray I stay up out the grave and the penile Meanwhile, I'm convertible coastin' I ain’t playin' no more, I converted to coachin' And I rarely get credit so I keep cash with me Cocaine is a hell of drug, ask Whitney Yeah, this is creativity on Creatine D.C. about to blow, we know cause we the guillotine [Chorus: Wale] I'm a son of gun Dub A.L.E., such a son of a gun And I master every trade under the sun Talk sharp like a razor blade under the tongue, nigga And it weighs a ton Dub A.L.E., still a son of a gun And I master every trade under the sun Talk sharp like a razor blade Ha