Therapy - Remedy, Lounge Lo

Peace, peace, peace

Yeah y’all, come and get ya therapy

Come get ya therapy, that’s right

Remedy, come get ya therapy

Peace, yo.

Don’t make me spaz out, clash out

And tap a nigga wig, while my man blow his wiz back out

Ain’t nothin changed, from the elevator shack, +BlackOut!+

The Lounger had the Mac out, up in the Ooh

Past the cash and the crackhouse

Droppin on this wiz for years

But now I’m spittin from the front to the rear

To get my piece of this here

And can’t I share with my F.A.M.

this year?

Ninety-eight nineteen, I’ll wild Baneen on ya whole scene

Double-Dutch, touch clutchin the mic, spiritual saint

(and five mics in The Source is no match for one king)

Listen here while I’m rippin here, sippin on Cabosi, yea

Style that I got’ll take ya back to the stairs

With them niggas from the drug game

Government status’ll turn thug name

Alias kid Doug Mclean, what a shame

What he did to the whole crew, I told you

Bitch mothafuckas walk around and wanna hold you

Down, I tote somethin, roast somethin, smoke somethin

Promote somethin, and control the whole function

Got the whole shit jumpin

Project kids are bloodin up and some pumpin

Nothin but the hot shit, summertime with Loungin

This is therapy, the Loungin Lo with the Remedy

We keep y’all close like we keep our enemies

Knee-deep in the struggle with our feet in the puddle

We smoke green murder bones, gettin stoned up in huddles

Generation X, money, drugs, violence and sex

You never know what’s next, just +Protect Ya Necks+

Yo these days are like livin at night, in the darkness

Blinded by the light, we can’t help but to fight

Laser sword, rock a pro seasonal ward

We celebrate the new borns and cuttin biblical cords

In form on Sphinx, rockin twenty-six inch links

Filled with jinx, you never know how this next man thinks

O-to the-T-H-O-R-I with the R-to the-E-M-E-D-Y

And now I come back with a rougher rap

Niggas say that shit, talkin bout my click

O-to the-T-H-O is sick

It’s a race thing, black and white face thing

Forever, ya better represent dunn in any weather, whatever

Ya talk, gotta mash you out

And if I see you on the block, gotta smash you out

The whole picture, ya not down and somethin bit ya

How many times must I tell a nigga that I be the slang mic shitter?

But I see it’s goin on this year, it’s on this year

We jumpin over pawns this year

My word is bond and I swear to the mic that I hold tight

I see the livest nigga son, foldin in fights

He wasn’t holdin right

Superstar project kid, his face painted in Maybelline

Day to day queen, hiss name’s Shaylene

Who thought that he had it all

But he didn’t cuz his fam plays basketball

And went the last of the tour, bout the casket call

He thought he was real, in the killin field

The Park Hill, where Pillage kill

Ain’t a damn thing change I’m hangin out with Tang

Yo I drip slang, it’s nothin but the usual thang

And big guns still bust in the heat of the night

To my peeps who need freedom and life, peace

O-to the-T-H-O-R-I with the R-to the-E-M-E-D-Y

«It's the R-E-M-E-D-Y» -] Remedy (8X)

Yea, therapy y’all