Carry On Lyrics - What Goes Around - Statik Selektah

(This is live and direct) 

(Others such as myself are trying to carry on tradition) 

(Carry on tradition) 

You're static and I'm a selektah 

Mic check 1, 2, 1, 2 

(Carry on tradition) 

Mic check when a nigga come through 

Niggas keep it silent 

Cause we all about that knowledge 

Besides the fact a nigga never been as swank as me, I like that 

Until I shine I sit patiently, so light that, I'm folding back, scroll a pack 

And roll a fatty, smokes heavy, not even over 

Mad I'm thinking what they probably should have did before 

I'm on my girls and soaring, foreign under them heels 

It ain't about the Ralph though, tell your horse chill 

Don't need to grill to feel like a real nigga 

If he can't see the light then shine Hilfigers still 

Six-figure deals with the hell, since the age of six I knew the name would ring a bell 

In six more years to wonder what the time could tell 

That's 666 still no signs of a three-sixty deal 

Neither did I sell myself, Records spinning by they self 

The DJ tell myself go reflects off the reflex, before I told Flex drop that Semtex on the next New York best 

This sickest sound, stick around, and we coming for the vets now 

Can a nigga contest? Maybe if he put his pride aside he could confess, but none the less 

It's fundamental, we need to fund the mental, wise with the momentum 

So rise on this momental, so born your inquidentials 

Watch who you pretend to, and put a potent diamond to fuel 

If you respect my conglomerate then wait I'm rocking to 

It's such a prominent tune, but I won't get my roses until I lie on my tomb 

Flowers 

(Others such as myself are trying to carry on tradition) 

(Carry on tradition) 

You're static and I'm a selektah 

(This is live and direct) 

(Carry on tradition) 

(Nigga that Hennesy) 

(Nigga that Hennesy) 

(Nigga that Hennesy) 

(Nigga that Hennesy) 

With my lyrical Billy Dee 45 colt 

Fuck the polices, they raided but they can't find dope 

If it ain't about money and bitches, nigga what you rhyme for? 

Work every day in my trap, make what you sign for 

My niggas is willing to whip that work, it's such a ridiculous feeling 

You come in your crib and shit don't work 

Electric, gas and water, you fugazi 

You mutilated like Pookie at the Carter 

Jumps the Jackson, this gangsta rapping, nigga respect the father 

Taking it back to making them pick a switch off the tree 

Every time you rap or do a show bitch I should pitch off your feet 

You used to flow 'bout goofy shit 

Met a G and got on some groupie shit 

A slave to my rap page, student under my tutelage 

I'm still taking these boys to school 

As quick as I build them up, I can just disassemble them 

Coke and cut the curriculum cousin stayed up in Flint 

I was shipping this shit to Michigan 

The black bastard fuck lean [?] I see the bitch in them 

Copper squad drop a pile on them, I'm steadily shitting on these niggas 

But i hit them with Freddie Cane, switch up the style on 'em 

I stretched it out to 250 he got a nine coming 

[?] night but I'm up as early as five something 

Chopping boulders, and blowing doldgers so fuck a couple folders 

Bended corners, and serving yola off of this motorola 

Sometimes you sacrifice your heart to serve this hard weight 

Thirty rounds of death from my waist, its baby scarface nigga 

Yeah I got thirty rounds of death from my waist, its baby scarface nigga 

I got thirty rounds of death from my waist, its baby scarface nigga 

(Carry on tradition) 

(You're statik and I'm a selektah) 

You know what I'm saying these niggas is rapping around in circles and shit 

They ain't talking no real shit they ain't really 'bout about it you dig? 

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