Oh Sweet America Lyrics - The Group Home

{Melachi The Nutcracker} 

Aiyo, New York tracks, keep me phat like that 

I exercise with fitness, to support my back 

It's going on black, and I'm out to get mines 

Bust in the place with a New York rhyme 

Yo some people are mindless, and don't know what the time is 

Mess around with the wrong one, and get expired 

I'm gettin fired, offa the smoke and the blunts 

Killin big bids offa a gangsta hunt 

Don't front, what do you want? I push a trick with a stunt 

We got out of town hits, and like George likes Pits 

'cause I flex with a Polo around my wrist 

Nothing changed... 

{Lil Dap} 

Uh, my bad decision in the game got me flippin on cats 

Now that I'm back, puttin Brooklyn down on the map 

'cause you know this camera's on me, and my sons right now 

Pimpin our sounds, watch how we Tear Shit Down 

I cause blow a catastrophe, I master thee 

The game of rap, so don't fuck with Dap, I dance with my track 

You bust you neen, I bust my nena back 

Rhymes sharp like thumbtacks, with enough contacts 

To blow my enemies off the map, If they try to attack... 

Chorus 2X: Lil Dap 

Oh Sweet America, how could it be? 

Can't see my people dying in the streets no more 

Got to hustle from the bottom just to feed the poor 

Understanding what's right, realizing what's wrong 

*(second time, the last line gets left out)* 

{Melachi The Nutcracker} 

Yo I salute the mic, when I take flight 

Plus my styles real hype, and I'm feeling allright 

So go with the flow, let's see what all of you know 

I flip like G.I. Joe, with mad potential 

I'm about to get mine, you know it's about that time 

My people losing their mind, off the Group Home rhyme 

Murdering crime, people on the streets playing for keeps 

Brand new jeeps, riding thru on the creep 

Who care? I guess that everyone is scarred 

Better be preparred, 'cause the worst is near 

The Group Home is here, open your ears and stand clear 

Crack your bears, we've been doing this for years 

Chorus 2X 

{Lil Dap} 

How could it be? 'cause if you bust for me, I have to bust for you 

These old school rules, got me spittin lyrics at you 

I'm thinking hard and serious and going back to the time 

When cats were scarred to death to even say that they rhyme 

'cause it was off the meters, niggas had to throw their dick beaters 

Block parties with heaters, no crooked to feed us 

It's 7 days in a week, 12 months in a year 

But between the nonsense we'll drop a jewel this year 

Keep your eyes open, stoppin off the ends when we rock 

Poppin your clutch, and starving mc's to rock 

And walk with fear, keepin my momentum in gears 

Excess is near, my niggas can smell it in your ear 

2000 and beyond, Group Home are bombing ya, son 

My crew number one, no competion 

Chorus 3X