Cover art for New World Order by Bryant Dope

New World Order

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New World Order Lyrics

[Verse 1: Perrion]
I need an explanation
For the hating in this generation
I guess niggas feel deflated
When you on a road to greatness
Patiently waiting since I was a toddler
Nodding to niggas who was mobbing
Deep in Queens with my brother and father in a Honda
Now picture how I'm pitching that
Pitching crack
With my written raps
With a bitch
Sitting on my lap
Niggas feelin wack
Swear I'm finna tax niggas
Who wanna hear my shit on wax
Watch your back
For these snake-ass, fake
Tell the jake-ass niggas
They be chilling in the mountains
Finna break back

Niggas know
Wonder how I come up with these great tracks
Nigga
You would've thought that I been spitting since eight-tracks
Was bigger

Figure
This little nigga
Been writing since Jigga
Was tight with Dame

We need something more enticing in the game
What's the name muh'fucker?
We standing right here
We’ll appear in rare form like Flex while shifting gears
In the new whip
Color of Cool Whip

They askin who shit on the sample
Lupe, the half spanish dude eating spanish food
Sucking danish boobs in Atlanta
With too much time on his hand
Met with Ruin made a fucking masterplan
Ask the man himself
Bitch I'm tryna manage wealth
Spit a couple dope bars that’ll surely damage health
Nigga
Check the opus
Bitch I'm focused
What's the motive
I don't know but hocus pocus
Couldn't play a fucking joke on this
Token black smoker kid
Going on the opening
Like I'm fuckin a girl after she unfold from the lotus stance
Nigga

[Verse 2: Bryant Dope]
The flow I'm pitchin' got me hittin' with perfect precision
I hope that you're listenin'
The rhythm is rugged and wicked
Like the composition
Where all of the rhymes are written

Like cotton I'm pickin'
Lines from fields of my mind, I'm rippin'

Those like gold ropes from the neck of hoes
Who shine with flashy clothes and tip on four Vogues
I'm offbeat in the dome like a bad snare
A young nigga from Queens who don't fuckin' care
I know a gang of niggas who blaze and pull triggers
Got bodies and count figures
Rob women and stab bitches
I don't be with 'em
But they my niggas though

Move slow or your crew is fallin' like dominoes
I done known
Bitches in my city who are down to go
But they all fake, like the Louis clutch that they hold
Now she know
She was just a ho to me and my niggas though
I am gone
Blowin' that good shit, Cali grown

I am known in my city
And in your town
Queens kids comin' up just to tear it down
I am crowned prince of my city
More Puffy, less Diddy

More money, more titties
Dope
[Verse 2: Joey Bada$$]
I been killing 'em, your bitch been feeling him
Ya'll can't be serious like films Ben Stiller in
Nobody iller than him at the top of his adrenaline
Flow sweet like cinnamon, Name a chick that I ain't swimming in
Uh, got flow for days, I'm sure to get paid if
They hate the price on son's life, it's sure to get raised
But there's no break when I got you pinned in
Said it uno, dos, tres then fin,
I let him swim with like
Mad fishes, In the cut like mad stitches

I know you mad bitches mad how my style switches
So, frequently be freaking MC's with these frequencies
These freaking trees got me soaring over freaking seas
Too many freaking G's claim they make that deuce pop
Please, the only shit you ever squeeze was your juicebox nigga
And you know it, cause real G's don't have to show it
Got your head in the clouds, so big homie, gotta get you focused
But no, it's all a part of the business, don't take it personal
It must be hurting you to know I could be merkin' you
At will, whenever I feel, the shit get realer
For scrillas, get the beats out till a nigga Dilla
I shine like crystals, never held a pistol
Never packed a tool, but that don't mean that I won't fix you
Who is you? I don't give a F, I do it effortless
Tell your messengers, they can get opened like beverages
Da fuckin' specialist

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