[Verse 1:]
Came on a different ship, we all in the same boat
Ask how I remain dope, Ask how I maintain hope
Even though I stay broke
Might not see the payroll or Barbados, I'm eating bread with Mayo
Spent my money on the album, something that I kinda regret
2 thousand in debt but even still I step
With endurance and perseverance
That the music that I'm putting out is just worth hearing
Canadian Hip-Hop, there ain't no stopping us!
We're more than coffee cups and hockey pucks it's obvious
Since the day's of VCR I've been doing CPR on CDR's while my friends flex beefy arms
Mr. TV Man, Mr. Greedy Hands
Give me some money I'm sick of eating this Ichiban
Sick of riding around in my parent's mini-van
I got a plan just raise your hands up!
[Chorus:]
This right here, ain't for clubs
It ain't for dolled up girls wearing skirts and uggs
Or that Ed Hardy wearing, Faux-hawk hairin
Naw I ain't dissing homie I'm on a mission!
[Verse 2:]
And I'm a freedom fighter
Steven Tyler mixed with MacGyver
They told me to walk this way but I escaped using a lighter and a set of pliers
This will get you higher than people who thought Kanye's CD straight fire
I'm straight tired of this techno voice
Don't get no choice, no more Ghetto Boys
They legitimately plastered and digitally mastered
Cause all we have nowadays is singers, no more rappers!
This ain't R&B! This is Hip-Hop!
The only thing over your voice should be the Disc-Jock
Call me traditional, Call me too critical
But I'm 19 and already this is old!
What I be serving up it feels like murder
You got less chance than the Green Party in Alberta
And I ain't even bragging, just saying you're like Plaxico Burris homie
You're legging.
[Chorus:]
This right here, ain't for clubs
It ain't for dolled up girls wearing skirts and uggs
Or that Ed Hardy wearing, Faux-hawk hairin
Naw I ain't dissing homie I'm on a mission!
[Verse 3:]
This ain't a song, meant to get my paper long
Ain't for the Jager-Bomb, ain't for the steroid arms
Not that there's anything wrong with that, I got a couple friends who be down with that
I'm just saying, I want more than your hips to react to this
It's so passionate! The flow immaculate!
They'll try and package this, but I will have a fit in front of management
If they try and make me change who I feel I am
This ain't Will.I.Am, but where's the love for a stand up man with no cabana tan?
Hand to hand combat, I'm Brandon Shanahan before he was washed up
You feel me camera man?
I rap circles round this rapping munchkins who sound redundant
I sound abundant, the sound is pungent
I listen to Smashing Pumpkins, rap's too dumb man
This one's for the heads.
[Chorus:]
This right here, ain't for clubs
It ain't for dolled up girls wearing skirts and uggs
Or that Ed Hardy wearing, Faux-hawk hairin
Naw I ain't dissing homie I'm on a mission!
Transit - Not For Clubs Lyrics
Transit - Not For Clubs Lyrics
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We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
[Verse 1:]
Came on a different ship, we all in the same boat
Ask how I remain dope, Ask how I maintain hope
Even though I stay broke
Might not see the payroll or Barbados, I'm eating bread with Mayo
Spent my money on the album, something that I kinda regret
2 thousand in debt but even still I step
With endurance and perseverance
That the music that I'm putting out is just worth hearing
Canadian Hip-Hop, there ain't no stopping us!
We're more than coffee cups and hockey pucks it's obvious
Since the day's of VCR I've been doing CPR on CDR's while my friends flex beefy arms
Mr. TV Man, Mr. Greedy Hands
Give me some money I'm sick of eating this Ichiban
Sick of riding around in my parent's mini-van
I got a plan just raise your hands up!
[Chorus:]
This right here, ain't for clubs
It ain't for dolled up girls wearing skirts and uggs
Or that Ed Hardy wearing, Faux-hawk hairin
Naw I ain't dissing homie I'm on a mission!
[Verse 2:]
And I'm a freedom fighter
Steven Tyler mixed with MacGyver
They told me to walk this way but I escaped using a lighter and a set of pliers
This will get you higher than people who thought Kanye's CD straight fire
I'm straight tired of this techno voice
Don't get no choice, no more Ghetto Boys
They legitimately plastered and digitally mastered
Cause all we have nowadays is singers, no more rappers!
This ain't R&B! This is Hip-Hop!
The only thing over your voice should be the Disc-Jock
Call me traditional, Call me too critical
But I'm 19 and already this is old!
What I be serving up it feels like murder
You got less chance than the Green Party in Alberta
And I ain't even bragging, just saying you're like Plaxico Burris homie
You're legging.
[Chorus:]
This right here, ain't for clubs
It ain't for dolled up girls wearing skirts and uggs
Or that Ed Hardy wearing, Faux-hawk hairin
Naw I ain't dissing homie I'm on a mission!
[Verse 3:]
This ain't a song, meant to get my paper long
Ain't for the Jager-Bomb, ain't for the steroid arms
Not that there's anything wrong with that, I got a couple friends who be down with that
I'm just saying, I want more than your hips to react to this
It's so passionate! The flow immaculate!
They'll try and package this, but I will have a fit in front of management
If they try and make me change who I feel I am
This ain't Will.I.Am, but where's the love for a stand up man with no cabana tan?
Hand to hand combat, I'm Brandon Shanahan before he was washed up
You feel me camera man?
I rap circles round this rapping munchkins who sound redundant
I sound abundant, the sound is pungent
I listen to Smashing Pumpkins, rap's too dumb man
This one's for the heads.
[Chorus:]
This right here, ain't for clubs
It ain't for dolled up girls wearing skirts and uggs
Or that Ed Hardy wearing, Faux-hawk hairin
Naw I ain't dissing homie I'm on a mission!
Came on a different ship, we all in the same boat
Ask how I remain dope, Ask how I maintain hope
Even though I stay broke
Might not see the payroll or Barbados, I'm eating bread with Mayo
Spent my money on the album, something that I kinda regret
2 thousand in debt but even still I step
With endurance and perseverance
That the music that I'm putting out is just worth hearing
Canadian Hip-Hop, there ain't no stopping us!
We're more than coffee cups and hockey pucks it's obvious
Since the day's of VCR I've been doing CPR on CDR's while my friends flex beefy arms
Mr. TV Man, Mr. Greedy Hands
Give me some money I'm sick of eating this Ichiban
Sick of riding around in my parent's mini-van
I got a plan just raise your hands up!
[Chorus:]
This right here, ain't for clubs
It ain't for dolled up girls wearing skirts and uggs
Or that Ed Hardy wearing, Faux-hawk hairin
Naw I ain't dissing homie I'm on a mission!
[Verse 2:]
And I'm a freedom fighter
Steven Tyler mixed with MacGyver
They told me to walk this way but I escaped using a lighter and a set of pliers
This will get you higher than people who thought Kanye's CD straight fire
I'm straight tired of this techno voice
Don't get no choice, no more Ghetto Boys
They legitimately plastered and digitally mastered
Cause all we have nowadays is singers, no more rappers!
This ain't R&B! This is Hip-Hop!
The only thing over your voice should be the Disc-Jock
Call me traditional, Call me too critical
But I'm 19 and already this is old!
What I be serving up it feels like murder
You got less chance than the Green Party in Alberta
And I ain't even bragging, just saying you're like Plaxico Burris homie
You're legging.
[Chorus:]
This right here, ain't for clubs
It ain't for dolled up girls wearing skirts and uggs
Or that Ed Hardy wearing, Faux-hawk hairin
Naw I ain't dissing homie I'm on a mission!
[Verse 3:]
This ain't a song, meant to get my paper long
Ain't for the Jager-Bomb, ain't for the steroid arms
Not that there's anything wrong with that, I got a couple friends who be down with that
I'm just saying, I want more than your hips to react to this
It's so passionate! The flow immaculate!
They'll try and package this, but I will have a fit in front of management
If they try and make me change who I feel I am
This ain't Will.I.Am, but where's the love for a stand up man with no cabana tan?
Hand to hand combat, I'm Brandon Shanahan before he was washed up
You feel me camera man?
I rap circles round this rapping munchkins who sound redundant
I sound abundant, the sound is pungent
I listen to Smashing Pumpkins, rap's too dumb man
This one's for the heads.
[Chorus:]
This right here, ain't for clubs
It ain't for dolled up girls wearing skirts and uggs
Or that Ed Hardy wearing, Faux-hawk hairin
Naw I ain't dissing homie I'm on a mission!