Lyrics:
of a master
You never thought you'd be bodied by a bastard
A bachelor who backspin on breakbeats
Break necks of broke souls who hate me
Hate he? you can't
I'm uh look to the hills, keep it real
Seek the one above despite how I feel
After getting shot at He made Cal-G a deal
Seek ME son be eternally
will not show us the Grail, we shall take your
castle by force!
GUARD: You don't frighten us, English pig-dogs! Go and boil your
bottoms, sons
swear son
I won't ne'er run cuz ain't nann one of us
Scared one bit
Cuz if you had to put that gun away
I bet your ass would run away
So I'ma wait 'til
whether that Eddie's got anything
to do with that Seventh Son business, but those were both released... those singles, within one year of each
other
Don't feel no pain when I'm with you, said I feel so numb
Was raised by the pops, yeah I'm a son of a gun
Hitting heads and spinning blocks jus for
majesty/no pageantry, just accuracy, I promise I can't rap for free/the way I run threw all them hoes(holes) they call me barry/by the way I spin off of them
Yeah, I be talkin' to the dead homies
I hear voices in my head tellin' me who phony
Run up on me, nigga, you gon' see
God's son, so you know, for me,
friends down
Until ya family up"
If I bring the fish by they cookin'
It's a fish fry
My friends make the fish fly but
They ain't playin' Candy Crush
I don't
was originally
Scheduled to be released last
Year, but it was pushed back
By Meek's label, Atlantic
After he was sentenced to
Six months in prison
(He
I switch
To some fly shit, like some silk suits by Paul Smith
And purchase some kicks by Kenneth Cole
Cop a Hilfiger, or Polo goose, for when it's
a bus, nigga
Mionetto, the Chef is on ill levels
Be the custom ill bezel, we get down
All the hills meddle
Real rebels that run through the real ghettos
Pss, yo, yo, yo (yo son roll!)
Oh shit, yo, yo, run!
Aiyo, I jumped from the 8th floor step, hit the ground
The pound fell, cops is coming
the fire die by the flame
Happy I'm gone knowin' my son's gonna be the same
As his dough-diggy dog that
Who put his feelings on a pamphlet
A pen unleash
the fire die by the flame
Happy I'm gone knowin' my son's gonna be the same
As his dough-diggy dog that
Who put his feelings on a pamphlet
A pen unleash
I use that
Machete to Butch Cassidy by the way
His two faggot ass sons' names
Is Shane and Cassidy bang! That's blasphemy
That's the main catastrophe
Y'all know what this is
D-Block
Oh yeah by the way
This is the remix
Who!
You can kiss your ass good-bye
D-Block D-Block D-Block D-Block
La
stick talk like we play for a lacrosse team
She throw that pussy like a 4 seam, tell that hoe get off me
Never had a son but these rappers is my offspring
of your mouth
I have 10 goons run inside of your house
I like when a rap nigga try to think he hard
A neck shot make him breath
Out a drinking straw if
you worked on all spring
Gotta Tito’s and soda in her cup cause it’s low cal
Lookin like she’s walked right outta so cal
Crop top ball cap walkin in off
in the streets, you tellin' (Skrrt)
Don't run, don't run
Make it home to my son (To my son)
I be with killers who kill other killers
I'm hangin'
drill mugged or thugged out
Blood in or blood out, son was bugged out
Might look at you and slice you
Buck fifty face stupid and say but run Nike swoop
(ATL Jacob)
VVS's dripping down my neck, I'ma drown ho
Smith and Wesson, thinking I'm a game, I'm like Rambo
Came a long way from the trenches
I want that son-of-a-bitch dead!
I want him dead!
What am I, alone in this world?
Did I ask you what you're tryin' to do?
Did I ask you what you're
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