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Remember the Titans (feat. DJ Doo​-​Bay, Kreative Tendencies, Black Smith & QUAY) - Single

by Quentino

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1.
[Verse 1 - DJ Doo-Bay] We three kings? Make that six Man, Three 6 Mafia: we are the shit Yeah, you can call us the New Age New Wave This is how we do it, man: We takin' it, we seizin' the day The crown is ours! Man, the kingdom has come This is how we been doin' it, man: We've been sent from above Yeah, we the angels, the riders, the Seven Horsemen We're comin' to slaughter all y'all bitches, because this is our time... again Yeah, we doin' it! Re-run that back You heard me! One more time, this is our fuckin' track This is how we're doin' it: Murderin', pillaging, rapin' You know we're doin' this shit, and murkin' them all of the days end Yeah, till I get old, till I die, till I'm decrepit See, you know I'm doin' this shit, you couldn't even measure me This is my talent, my honor and glory Motherfucker, I ain't through yet: listen to our story Remember the day, that you remembered my name My name is D-O-O-B-A-Y, Doo-Bay That's right; you heard me! Yeah, that's how we do it: Kickin' fancy bars, fancy cars You know we doin' it all day! Motherfucker, we live So large, so large; yeah, that's how we're doin' it Livin' real BIG, real BIG; you know we never losin' it This is ours, this is the day we seizin' it, bitch This is P.o.P., motherfucker! We the kings, we rich! [Verse 2 - Kreative Tendencies] First off, let me say hi! My name is Kreative I got a beat that burns strips--- yeah, I mean "cremated" Lemme say hi to everybody on the strip Before I hop in the whip And I just drive, straight No stoppin'! Pedal to the medal I ain't stoppin' for nothin', unless it's gas or a drink Or, model-type chick sittin' on the side of the road That ain't gon' make me pay for the fuckin' pink And I ain't talkin' 'bout "pink" as gettin' in them cars I'm talkin' 'bout "pink" is me gettin' in bras And gettin' in them drawers (What?!?) Huhh? I'm sorr', I'm just tryna do my best to stay, out from them bars I, I mean, stay out from behind bars I'm just trying to do everything legit, Ma I'm just trying to do everything like my Momma says Back to the fact that this beat is Vegas strip in the Fifties Me in my zoot suit, red, no dickies Got the gators on, light glistenin' You can see it, light glistenin' Off the, Rolex, behind that crystal glass I keep tickin' like that line behind the crystal glass I keep movin', keep goin' I'm not stoppin' for nobody, I got the Pifinarina movin'! [Verse 3 - Black Smith] Black Smith here, (hah!), we ready for war Said we was honing our craft--- "what you preparing us for?" The homies asked me. I replied, "the takeover's in store They ain't ready, 'cause we 'bout to make Doomsday even more!" Fuck the world; she's a whore --- fuck the Mayans, we score 'Bout to bring the gavel down on the John Conners of lore Bust through their decorum, usher Death through the door He been tailin' me since I ain't shown remorse to the Lord But what if I do? Would that make Shame go away Nah, niggas ain't survive to tell tales the next day That's why I unload on the track, like there's no comin' back I'm unleasin' my wrath, son; what you know about dat? Gearin' up for the clash, now that I've chosen this path Robert Frost at the fork, got me rethinkin' fast Clouds are loomin' around, the darkest ones, matter fact Apocalypse strikes, yeah we the ones up to bat The microphone sage, African-American pain Still Pegasus vein, stallion forever in fame Goin' Medusa on page, died free at young age All divine-inspired reasons for you to remember my name [Verse 4 - QUAY] It's spiritual: The sermon of sixteen bars Instrumental, beat ain't it? Lyri-cism slayed it All them other rappers fainted Hot, and bothered, by the brother's silver tongue What he done? Nothin' but layin' soul on wax, tracks melt Apple cinnamon candles, handle This juggernaut grippin' knots, screamin' "Black Wall Street" to the grave Cookin' lyrics he done slaved Like a 1955 housewife Unappreciated, but related to lovin' hip hop Hold it in, fuck that! I fixed dinner, throw that! Frying pan to the head--- hell yeah, my nigga hold dat! It's forever Atlas; no need for mythology Holdin' up the state with god body Puttin' my DNA on the beat Now, how dare a rapper said he did it like me? Put them brain cells to labor for the paper Maybe later they'll realize the feats he complete Maybe when they six feet Enlightened by the heights of heaven God can give 'em the divine eyes of I Damn!... I just lied 'Cause it's QUAY: the greatness in time Blow minds, yo' mind's mine By the time you know mine's, it's past time And all these lines scream, "get 'em!" I got 'em! ... Don't go nowhere, I stop 'em! Where they at? ...I lost 'em They playin' dead--- possum Ain't no problems, 'cause I just solved 'em! [Verse 5 - Quentino] Now pay attention to the signs! The resurrection of your intersession might remain an inception Go to sleep until you hear the stomp of my feet, don't even retreat Be able to accept defeat from the Titan of Greece Or was it Rome? I wanna go home And all of a sudden I'm realizin' that most of these terms are "so long!" You stay on track, you'll run into the fact that I am the nigga Who would pull on the trigger without a ticker! Part of the six kings you see But instead I come through with no envy Almost like these people end up bringin' in them entrees I'm into the club, you just hate on them dubs You hate my own swag, well y'know what? That's my town Full of them haters, well I'm not one of them 'Cause I come right through, and I'm about to lose it 'Bout to lose my mind, as always, with the crew People better not stare, Or be ready for that futuristic flare---that solar flare! Attack ya like a nuclear bomb, or atomic bomb About ready to lose it like people of drama You'll end up thinkin' of Guya You'll end up thinkin' of Mayans You'll end up thinkin' that niggas are gonna just break down But instead I end up goin' around and end up knockin' ya'll niggas down I don't really give a fuck Yeah nigga, what you down with? Not a damn thing. This is my crew, P.o.P., what it do, nigga? Straight off of that shit, niggas are wonderin' about my shit Well y'know what? Shit, I just gave up. Fuck it! I'm done with this, bitch! [Outro - Kreative Tendencies] Shout-out to the entire Publish or Perish crew!!!

about

In this single for Quentino's "Scorpio, Vol. 2: Sign of the Times" mixtape, the Publish or Perish collective join together for one monstrous collaboration.

credits

released January 15, 2013

Vocals: DJ Doo-Bay (@Doo_Bay), Kreative Tendencies (@JohnDillinger_), Black Smith (@J_Smith_Real), Quentino (@quentin_roberts)
Mixing and Mastering: Black Smith, CT (@YoursTrulyCT)
Production: J. Cardim
Single Artwork: Stealth Designs (@ElephantStealth)

J. Cardim, A. Dobbins, G. Dube, J. Quaynor, Q. Roberts, J. Smith

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Quentino Ardmore, Oklahoma

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