Control Lyrics – Tommy Lee Sparta

Control Lyrics Meaning

[Intro]
Tommy Lee jumps straight in shouting out Spanish Town and Gaza Empire, letting everybody know the real gunmen from the garrison are waking up and taking over. He’s laughing at these fake, force-ripe little wannabe killers who have zero street credit but stay flexing like they’re bad. He straight disrespects them—go learn some real badness from scratch or just go suck your mama and stay home, because right now you’re embarrassing the whole road.

[Verse 1]
He keeps going hard, telling these youths they can never chase him off his own block or even run him out the ends—he’s planted there forever. No little boy can open their mouth and talk Gaza business because they don’t live it. Keep it real with yourself, stop pretending to be something you’re not, and never in your life try to size up to the real don because that’s instant death. The moment you disrespect the Gaza leader, you basically told him take your soul, so now every gun is coming out. His gun doesn’t want to hear sorry, doesn’t want to miss, and definitely doesn’t want to behave. He says he’s completely lost his mind, pure virgin oil crazy, and people have cursed his whole bloodline so he’s destined to kill. That’s why his war is going to erase your entire family tree and give the news stations something big to read tomorrow. He’ll just sit back calm and watch the chaos unfold. Bare killers rush out the lane like b0mb explosion, no running allowed—if you try, every bone in your body gets broken, you crumble to the ground, three shots rip your guts open, you tumble and drop, then he lights his weed and blows smoke right over your dead body like it’s incense. Real murderer style: empty the whole clip, reload quick, slam the turbo, rack the slide, drop the lumber down somebody’s nasty throat, bodies scattered all over the road while his crew full of pure demon souls roll deep. He’s wearing expensive Tom Ford cologne but still kicks the girl clean in her nose, lets her ride the hood then busts in her throat, flips her over backway, slaps her so loud the K echoes, spits in her face, and she still screaming she loves him even though the whole thing is completely outta control.

[Chorus]
The hook is simple but hits like a hammer—he’s telling the world over and over that nobody can control him, not even himself. The psycho man just rolls out whenever he feels like it, and once that dark side takes the wheel everything goes wild, fully outta control, no brakes, no chill, just pure madness running the show.

[Verse 2]
As soon as the guns start talking he switches into full cartoon villain mode, grabbing the Looney Tune strap and stepping out in army suit like a real commander. When that hammer (the gun cock) moves, everybody better move too because he’s in war mood. He talks a lot of gun talk because his heart is rude and ice cold. Wherever his enemies drop it looks like a straight horror movie scene in somebody’s yard. He lines up targets clean like he’s playing Call of Duty for real life. The kind of darkness he carries is so heavy even deep caves scared to hold it. Guns start doing tumba-rumba, knocking everything down that’s in the way, bodies tumbling and rumbling when they hit the ground. He tells them they should’ve come correct instead of playing jungle. Shots ringing out making clanky metal sounds while cowards run wherever they can. The gun smoke is so thick and strong the whole sky turns dark. Big guns conquering everything in sight, and he still warning little boys don’t ever try to step to him. Anywhere the big bumper guns bark nobody can touch his money bag. His shots make big artists like Masicka look small like mosquito. The special incendiary bullets lift bodies clean off the ground. Even if you smash into the dirt you still won’t turn black like real Nazi—meaning you died soft. When the blood starts spraying it makes that wet rustic sound, cops shaking in their boots because he’s the black whip master lashing rapid fire that chops backs clean in half. They say “go pick up your gun” and he picks it up and straight murders every single one of them no talking.

[Chorus]
This time the chorus comes back longer and louder, driving the point deep into your head. He keeps hammering that he’s impossible to control, the psycho rolls with his whole squad, everybody in the place has to feel it. He screams murder them, repeats the warning again and again so nobody can ever say they didn’t know—once he flips there’s no off switch, just nonstop uncontrollable rage and straight gunfire taking over everything.

[Outro]
He finishes screaming the whole place down, saying he left every bullet in the body and still got money to burn the corpse proper. Keeps singing the hard-fi-control line while bragging he’s buss the whole gun empty. Psycho rolls one final time, tells the DJ throw it in deep, flick up the lighter, clue the riddim proper, and tell the whole world let the madness start all over again because he’s never calming down.