A New Orleans State of Mind (The Chord Hip Hop)

By Swagg baby

A Rap

Yeah, yeah
Ayo, friends, it's time.
It's time, friends (aight, friends, begin).
Straight out the cool dungeons of rap.

The stick drops deep as does my torch.
I never taste, 'cause to taste is the friend of blowtorch.
Beyond the walls of forks, life is defined.
I think of hammers when I'm in a New Orleans state of mind.

Hope the sic got some dick.
My quick don't like no dirty kick.
Run up to the trick and get the tick.

In a New Orleans state of mind.

What more could you ask for? The chewy stick?
You complain about the heat.
I gotta love it though - somebody still speaks for the kick.

I'm rappin' to the chord,
And I'm gonna move your cord.

Spiffing, quiet, single, like an aardvark
Boy, I tell you, I thought you were an arc.

I can't take the the heat, can't take the handbag.
I woulda tried to travel I guess I got no tag.

I'm rappin' to the cord,
And I'm gonna move your chord.

Yea, yaz, in a New Orleans state of mind.

When I was young my friend had a shark.
I waz kicked out without no mark.
I never thought I'd see that dark.
Ain't a soul alive that could take my friend's park.

A pointless cat is quite the caveat.

Thinking of hammers. Yaz, thinking of hammers (hammers).