Coke Raps Freestyle (feat. King Trxll)

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Weasel Sims

Weasel Sims is a musical artist known for his unique blend of hip-hop and storytelling. His lyrics often delve into personal experiences and social commentary, while his delivery showcases a raw and passionate energy. Sims' music exhibits a strong sense of authenticity and has gained a dedicated following for its honest and introspective nature. more »

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Uh, they say imitation is the highest form of flattery
But I ain't impressed though
F*ck outta here nigga
Trill
King trill bitch
Uh, streets took me a different direction
Wasn't even supposed to go this route
Shit I know about shit
Niggaz ain't supposed to know about
Used to second guess
Now ain't no question who the coldest out
If you didn't notice
I guarantee that you notice now
That nigga holding
We gone take him down
Set up a meeting
Then jump out of the trunk on him like Leslie Chow
I'm from a town where
If you make it to thirty without yo hands dirty
Shorties won't respect you
Pray to God that he protect you
Where dirty bitches will neck you
For some liquor and a lil weed
Westside home of the hustlers
Moving at a different speeds
Better watch ya mans
That nigga hating
Plus he fueled by greed
Where the roses grow up
Out the concrete
Planted by evil seeds
Yo yo let me out
Bitch ass nigga
What the f*ck you riding for
F*ck if I offend you
Pussy you ain't got it in you
Never get up in that back seat
If you ain't bout to clap heat
This ain't a band
But we'll make you dance
On the back street
Nigga
Heyy, look imagine this
Free smoke, free smoke
My blick come wit a cancer stick
That's enough second hand smoke
For all ya mans ya wit
Short em down
Nailed em to the cross
Like he was from Nazareth
Pass outs have Auntie nem riding down
Like they tryna crash the whip
My test dummies, no air bags
She love me, say nephew dats a hit
Ever since sixteen I been having shit
Cash and whips
Since my first jab a nicks
Been stacking chips
Like that old pringles can
By the van in the gangway
Where I stashed my shit
The dicks sitting in the alley on Gladys
Shorty go pass the blick
Scuffed my new Havanah Joe's
Tryna stash the pole
Ripped my Pelle coat my mans stole
Cause he ain't want it no more
Cause the nigga we was working for
Got mad as all out doors
When he heard his workers was snatching shit
He said you thirsty robbing people
Like our block ain't doing twenty or mo
I ain't care cause I ain't do it
I still bought it from bro for the low
That was before, before that long ago
Turned into a whole bag of zips
A thousand grams
A slab, a brick
My bitch could vouch
I went from hustling corners
Working packs and shit
To here's my number place your order
I pull up on you in traffic wit yo package quick
My back work active make each rap I spit
Worth more than half a brick
Most cats that rap this slick just play tough
I'm tryna build a house
All they cokes raps be made up
Better stick to your role or get sprayed up
From a young shooter accurate
As Luka Doncic averages wit the Mavericks
I'm all black like Africans
To put a shell in ya head
Cause a dead man can't snitch like master splint, bitch

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