John Horse Lyrics - Singles - Rahim Samad

(Before music begins) 

Blast it until its deafening 

(music begins) 

Clap for me, Clap for me, Clap 

Clap for me, Clap for me, Clap 

Clap your hands for what he's doing 

Horns! 

This is so majestic 

Lets Go! 

V-A-U-L to the T 

Coming from the bottom to the T-O-P 

Rahim Samad in the place to be 

(1st verse) 

Most of these rappers are short change 

Only time they hard is when they snorting that cocaine 

claiming that they street but they aren't real with no shame 

until you put that heat to their grill like propane 

no name rappers want to ball with no game, no aim 

can't make a basket, grab the rock and pass it 

over to this crew for the two, Vaultclassic 

Rahim Samad is guaranteed to move the masses 

flow is so nasty, probably needs to detox 

this Michael Jackson style is off the wall with no sheet rock 

knocking till the beat stops 

my style is phatter than the fat dude from the fat boys that did the beatbox 

got the mind of a young George Jackson, young boys asking 'Who's that?' 

live from the trigga state, or the gunshine state blasting 

until those red and blue lights are flashing 

from the dirty south and the north, all I do is blend the accent 

got my crew outside the club its time to crash it 

Dickie suits and timberland boots be our fashion 

school of hard knocks wasn't one day absent 

chairman of the board, the ASR assailant 

God is my train of thought, can't derail it 

if your blind to the realness, this rhyme will braille it 

if real music floats your boat, this song will sail it 

(Chorus 2x) 

VaultCLassic, we're on the way to the top 

Rappers that hate, we just taking they spot 

and they can stay mad while we're making it hot 

It be V-C-P till the day that we drop 

(2nd verse) 

My art is martial, Rahim's a sensei 

can't control me, i'm not Kunta Kente 

I ain't a slave, I'm my mother's son 

And if they tried to cut my foot I'd kick they butt with my other one 

I didn't stutter son, no i'm not the dutterman 

Tampa is where i'm coming from 

There ain't another one 

more realer than this brother shining from the Southern sun 

Under the Mason dixon line, changing my position i'm 

type of cat to settle beef at any place and time 

you couldn't walk in my shoes or even lace up mine 

the judge didn't throw out my case and I ain't pay my fine 

To hell with the prosecution and state, thats my state of mind 

i'm a fool with it, young Elijah Poole with it 

Old heads liken my flow to when a tool is spitting 

This be the Son of Man that teach the true and living 

God ain't a mystery spook, they must be kidding 

(Chorus 2x) 

VaultCLassic, we're on the way to the top 

Rappers that hate, we just taking they spot 

and they can stay mad while we're making it hot 

It be V-C-P till the day that we drop 

(3rd Verse) 

Rahim's back, even better than before 

stay in my own lane with the pedal to the floor 

Buffalo soldiers, rebels in this war 

Thats steet educated to the core 

Raised by ghetto imams and slum apostles 

two edged sword as a tongue, thats turned hostile 

there's nothing it can't chop through 

got a glock 26 mind to pop you, hollow tip thoughts to stop you 

Richard Roundtree afro, this young Castro 

turns savage when you mess with his cashflow, why try? 

Say Buenos Noches to the bad guy, Rahim Samad 

Cause you won't see a bad guy like this again (let me tell you) 

(Chorus 2x) 

VaultCLassic, we're on the way to the top 

Rappers that hate, we just taking they spot 

and they can stay mad while we're making it hot 

It be V-C-P till the day that we drop