Jon Connor - The Pain - Lyrics
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The song was produced by Kalen Dixon.
Last week, Jon Connor sought to do his part against quarantine blues by unleashing an inspirational new single called "Infinity." Now, the former Aftermath signee has returned with another drop, furthering speculation that he's gearing up to unleash a full project upon us.
This time, Connor has come through with "The Pain," a Kalen Dixson produced banger that once again shines a light on his insatiable hunger.
As a menacing piano line builds up, Connor comes through with heavy intensity, spitting furious bars like "They say that hip-hop dead, well,u205fIu205fguessu205fthey must've missedu205fone / Drop a doubleu205falbum of that real n***a shit, this is disc one / got your city locked up, like my n***s locked up / How you sleepin' on me when this shit is waking Pac up?" Things explode as the frantic drums hit in full force, and before long Connor is calling back to a Method Man classic with a familiar hook.
That's not the only homage to Tical on this one, a testament to the Wu-Tang legend's enduring impact on the new generation of lyricists.
"I don't wanna aim at you lames, I throw grenades up, I done been through hell in a cell, I been caged up," spits Connor, closing out his verse.
"Word to Johnny Blaze, I'm amazin'." Jon Connor - The Pain (prod.
Kalen Dixon) Lyrics.
I am the best in the world at what I do I tell a bitch nigga "get some" Yeah, nigga, get some When I hit the room, here the fake ass and tits come They say that hip-hop dead? Well, I guess they must've missed one Drop a double album of that real nigga shit This is disc one Got your city locked up, like my niggas locked up How you sleepin' on me when this shit is wakin' Pac up? Fat lady singin', this the opera Did it my way like Sinatra Shotta...
yeah, this nigga got one You a son of a bitch, like I saw your pops run In Flint all we hear is bang, bang, like when pops— Fuck that, rap niggas claim gangs when they not one In Flint, we hear shots, don't no cops come Y'all say that y'all are paid? But y'all money young, nigga, jailbait With these bars, I'm not the one you want, that's a cellmate Have you motherfuckers with that I-ain't-make-bail face Servin' up this hot shit Devil's pot, hell cakes Holy grail, holy shit, I'm smilin' like holy Mase Strip club miracles, we made it rain for 40 days And 40 nights, I kill shit, nigga don't waste your only life It's only right, you really a bitch when you ain't on the mic I know the type Is it real, son? Is it really real, son? Let me know it's real, son, if it's really real Somethin' I can feel, son, load it up and kill one Want a ordeal, son? If it's really real Look; go 'head and step in the fire A moth to a lighter, the truth Look how I talk to these liars My hood, they're closin' down the Krogers and Meijers You think you fresh, but your flow done expired My flow done inspired Riots, Bill, now let me give you the science Let me explain where I came from, the cloth I'm made from I don't wanna aim at you lames, I throw grenades up I done been through hell in a cell, I been caged up Yeah nigga, word to Johnny Blaze, I'm amazin' When I was a little stereo I listen to some Champion I always wondered When I would be the number one (right now, nigga) Now ya listenin' to the Flint boy Yes, who else could it be? Any pussy come test me Me am gon lick out dem brains Look; y'all done fucked the game up Co-signin' shit y'all know that y'all should be ashamed of But thank y'all for not cloggin' my lane up Watch me That's all you can do 'cause none of you niggas can stop me You lookin' like Apollo Creed until he met Rocky Get it understood that my niggas got it locked Key to success, fuck a greatest rapper conversation if it's not me I'm the coldest, that's a easy answer How is that for sittin' in the hot seat? Better than your top three, fuck it, I'm my biggest fan I'm from Flint, yeah, better known as KillaNiggaLand Money too short to be the bigger man Connor tried to feed you and you bit his hand So I'm on my "fuck these niggas" shit again Take that Naw, it ain't no take-backs, y'all almost made me hate rap They be feedin' y'all bullshit and y'all ate that I blame the engineer, 'cause when y'all was listenin to the playback Y'all could've stopped these niggas, like "What the fuck made y'all make that?" I just wanted to get to two minutes for y'all Uh, salute to Meth Wu-Tang! Jon Connor
October 18, 2020, 05:07 pm