Part Two

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Kay Laquan

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Who wanna pick up, Niggas wishing they hit us
Wanting to be the slickest, they ain't up to the fitness
If niggas wanna dye, I can hit them up with the litmus
It's either fight or fly, send ya spirit up with the quickness
Niggas talkin bout they half, they don't even know the half duke
Bragging on the formula, don't even know the math
You bout to fall from Grace and you gone do it without class
Boy, you ass, just have the seatbelt with you when he crash

I been feeling like the world on my head, I don't condone it
A nigga want me dead he better not hold up my coffin
And it seems like the closest associates ain't appropriate
They in ya face hyping your life until you notice it
And no matter how close you are, the same nigga will kill ya
For a broad, a necklace or some bills, I'm forreal
So when you wake up in the clouds and look down to see
Ya bestfriend fucking your girl, you'd knew to listen to me
In a position to be, the H-N-I-C
The M-A-G-NIF-I-C-E-N-T
My niggas bang like Jordan in his prime
I'm daring you to try and cross mine, put your brains on the line
Aim at yo spine, say my name one more time
And I bet I'll put a triple bladed razor to your mind
Cone on baby, you know me black wave cap on
With the brains of a lame that I slayed in a rap song

A problem to ya health, just acknowledge it
Pussy, I throw blood at yo punk ass just swallow
Nigga, I don't even need to have to open my eyes to see through ya
Fake f*ck boy shit, the gangster is an illusion
The thug shit's an image, get a scrimmage on ya physical
You say you catching bodies - that shit is mythical
I hear you out there shaking like asses dancing to Mystikal
Majestic, test it and watch you fail with that pencil
You can stick in the top of your ass
Motherfucker, you listening to the bottom of the top of my class
And it seem like society tryna keep me from making it
Weed burn, it's baking me, we turn and form
Into a coalition built on the strengths of our color
We ride for each own and down to die like no other
Cause you my brother and, we gone make this shit, Fame
Bounce back like the switch got hit on the hydraulics, make ya wrist shake

Take that to the bank and bring me that transcript back
A fucking movie gangster and the script lacks
Hit you with a grip the size of my dick before ya shit can hit wax
Or the Internet thinking imma sit and let a bitch slap
Son what you thought was possible doing something illogical
Trying to stop the prophet, I'll pop ya, take it easy
One phone call, I'll have yo mom dipped in fish grease
And when this shit leak, I'll make history
Part Two

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