Don't Talk About It - Ed O.G

Yo, niggas goin' down like a toilet flushes

I’m talkin' shit like a high-school chick in the back of ghetto-routed busses

I multiply while you on plusses

Reppin' broke niggas with no crutches

On hot days, I’m like slushies — cool you down

Can you rhyme without a cuss

Think this blackhead gon' turn to a whitehead and bust

You mad ‘cause your trick blush at the sight of us

We hotter than y’all — that’s why you niggas ain’t likin' us

But you don’t frighten us — up and up, start fightin' us

And we’ll see you be bitin' dust — can you say a rhyme to enlighten us?

Now, we gon' ride this wave like a brush

And turn your mouth into mush — a gag order, shh, hush

All that hardcore shit?

Yo, we gon' see about it

Don’t talk about it, son, be about it

With all that, yo, we gon' see about it

Don’t talk about it, son, be about it

What I gave y’all before was just a fraction

I’m not about the talk, I’m about the action

Not about the ice nice go pause in the fashion

I’m about career and shit, and long-lastin'

Puncturin' MCs' lungs and leave ‘em gaspin'

Crashin' has-beens like skiers up in Aspen

Rock yo block here’s an Aspirin for askin'

Tryna move to the Benjamins but I’m still up on the Jacksons

Sippin' E&J to get the cream like askin'

I do it for the love, and I do it for the passion

And for you fools, I got tools like a craftsman

I get you wet without the water even splashin'

All that hardcore shit?

Yo, we gon' see about it

Don’t talk about it, son, be about it

With all that, yo, we gon' see about it

Don’t talk about it, son, be about it

Ed O.G.

be number one like Preemo — wanna bet like a casino?

Indie folk or amigos, they’ll be comin' like El Nino

For my wifey, moms, or bambino

Rep attorney style like the general named Janet Reno

You local small stars and small bars

Could never ever Converse with All Stars

You like a bee without a stinger

When you point the finger, that’s when we got beef like Jerry Springer

I get the payoff for hard work

Boston niggas beatin' up entertainers at they own concerts

Give me a shot and I’mma score

Ave. 194 I was raised on the third floor

But anyways, Ed O.G.

be

I’mma hit you with these rhymes,