Affiliated
Push! Montana, Freddie Gibbs, Reks, Statik Selektah
The easy, fast & fun way to learn how to sing: 30DaySinger.com
Niggas know what I'm affiliated with I'm quick to bust a move And bust yo' windows for this paper bitch Niggas get on off gimmicks They don't wanna get into no gangsta shit Fryin' yo' ass in front of yo' family Yo that's my favorite Shit to do to niggas Read you runnin' through these niggas Like a pack of condoms Sick just like I passed the flu to niggas I was diplomatic But this shit was gettin' through to niggas Way these faggots be actin' Make me just wanna shoot at niggas Go back to my roots on niggas A S.K. and a (?) Leave your crib one day without choppers, you gon' be dead, dog Burn some niggas off and then paid the cost over bread, dog Busta came in asked for some credit But I'm like, "Hell nah" If I was Jimmy Henchman I would have been left the country F*ck the snitches and pussy polices, them niggas monkeys Ten pounds of kush and a set of speakers That shit was funky I just needed drugs I'm a plug wrappin' this shit before me Spazzmatic cabbage cranium classic Deliver bastard bars Freddie and Statik Pushin' the pad Pinnacle General as if I be asthmatic, he fill syllables In lyrical paragraphs My scribbling battle raps or story verses They gon' need hearses Undertaker, Mother Nature You be one with makers Son to say your passion Jesus, sip Grey Goose Henny and reminisce, R-E-K-S Genesis The revolution's evolution 'Til revelation, you made your bed with Satan Game is full of hella hatin' I'm bakin' a book of statements for real emcees's To kill the likes of little B's Enemies turn to mini me's Lord of Gary R and Freddie killin' beats Pinnacle of (?) To the (?) Martin, Langston and Don Goines I'm omens to all men Poker table all in Get to know the label Y'all showin' off, we the spokesmen Lights, camera, action It's the main attraction Nothin' like the rest of these faggots The bullshit on the radio, heard by masses I'm MJ with a team full of Kerrs and Paxsons Squad of shooters, with black rugers Baby mama wallin', true to the stash looters You can ask around, know Push keep it the truest You're looking at the American version of (?) Or (?) Nigga f*ck it I do this Need to come holler at your boy and get some tutelage Might see me with thirty grand in front of hipsters But I'm knee deep in the street Don't get me mixed up I'm dirty, it's best to be cool fam Shit, I'm Tim Taylor with the tool, man Play Wilson, I peek over the gate Soon as I see your brows I'm squeezin' in your face
The easy, fast & fun way to learn how to sing: 30DaySinger.com
Written by: Fredrick Jamel Tipton, Patrick Baril, Corey Isiah Christie
Lyrics © TUNECORE INC, RESERVOIR MEDIA MANAGEMENT INC
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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"Affiliated Lyrics." Lyrics.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 4 May 2024. <https://www.lyrics.com/lyric/34961203/Reks/Affiliated>.
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