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Altuz - Altuz Baby Lyrics

I sit in traffic on the freeway
Happier than a punk rock white chick plastered listening to green day
You laughing at the shit that we say, cause we be out on the town Joking around getting paid every weekday
That’s the type of shit that I adore
Every day fighting for more
Party and laughing about the night before
But I been told the night is young
Got that Buddha smoke inside my lungs
Saying that crazy shit never bite my tongue
The record spins as I write the funk vocals tight like funds
Like back broke as a joke when I was young
I don’t do coke but I’m still high strung
And I’m angry cause no matter where I go I still find dumb
I guess it’s global
That’s why I chose to
Be anti-social social
And why I never do what I’m supposed to
My rhymes are postal
All these lyrics at my disposal
Haters immobile
They know I’m prone to
Do what they won’t do
Hold up
No wonder that I be taking the total

Yo, Altuz Baby!
Stepping in town, trekking around
Altuz be the new they accepting it now
Blessing my crown
Put it on my head and they bow
Getting paid out
3 different parties same house
I’m a rhyme writer
Lyrical prize fighter of madness
Artillery
Pen is my sword, paper my canvas
Jittery
Caffeine, green, and lots of practice
Ability
Endless agility my delivery
Or DiGiorno, I eat your soul
Ain’t gotta be a soccer player to say we score goals
I be on your screen like free porno
And we all know I’m known to release hormones
Truth be told, I’m Rufio, these haters roofy hoes
I be working all damn day in the studio
Ya rude, crude, bag of pre-chewed food dude and yo
Did I mention that under-rated I’m so?
My apology you can’t keep up with my rate of flow

Yo, Altuz Baby!
Running and gunning
Got the name on the track with my fame up coming around
Lyrical war zones you in the crossfire
Cross wiring vocal chords I cross tires
On flat tires I still drive
Yeah I’m still trucking
And a box of that Trojan horse I’m still...
Haha...
Gotcha wondering ya mind steady thundering
Body steady shuttering
Gotcha mouth stuttering
Clocking the gun of the tongue
I’m steady ready to blast ya ass
Up in the air like confetti I come ready
My lyrical gun heavy a ton bet he never thought I’d become
Yeti to some shout out to Pun
I’m not in little Italy I’m literally in the middle of Italy
Wanna try to riddle me?
This un-attackable rap-able capable mind shakeable
Orgasm of words don’t try to belittle me
I’m taking a break from all this stupidity

Yo, Altuz Baby!