Lyrics:
my thoughts but thats only the precipice
If this life never changes i mainly speak from inside
It slowly eats at my core and i dont think ill survive
bou to blow
Bitch that’s how it go
Bang Bang
Gang Gang
She slip and she drip
On my thang thang
Do it like pops go bang bang
Got a lil bitch eat the dang
they best spots
If she got a nigga
He get crop topped
Turned my daddy
To a pop pop
So I gotta get it
I will not stop
That's facts
I gotta get
back
All I gotta do is ask
I'll push ya shit back
That's a pop shot
That choppa make a pussy nigga do a hopscotch
Stone cold killa, nigga no pop shot
I'm
Don't judge let your heart be your eyes
And hate will die
Seek out the truth, denounce the lies
Always I try as days go by
My aim is up, head's to the sky
Phelps my stroke is mean
Skywalker is what she scream
I don't need to pop a bean
No family ties, no I'm not keen
You like trash that how it seems
I make
a flow that's so contagious
And all and all true patience, my brotha Lo told me makes for perfection
While you feeling bound by this matrix
That's why when
down below is all I’ve known
Trapped inside my mind watching someone else call it home
Evil clone, not alone, the voice inside will never cease
Hurt by
that's why my verses be so hot (Yeah, yeah)
You got to admit I'm scalding whether you like it or not (Hot, hot)
And I've put down every beat I've ever
and potholes
West Coast, I fuck hoes and eat Roscoes
Got gold with diamonds in it
All the finest linen
Versace, City tryna lock me (Ha ha haha)
That's my Biggie
be supplying the hot beats tonight and
Dance little shorty hit a pop lock and drop
So the spot knows who's hot girl the temperature rising
I'm too
trends or wallow in defeat
I'm still hungry as fuck, but can't even say bon appetit
'Cause I don't know what to eat, fuckin' microphone or the beat
at your chest, you need to rest
Die later, go ask the slimfast high leaders about their five ways to eat that you don't see when they released
Yo, Sweeney
Pound Gangsta chokin off that Boombastic
Now put my verse on the first one-beat the herds come
So be careful cause my rap will make you eat your
on the beat, yeah I know it sounds different
But his man's just passed, yeah his soul's just risen
Cold, cold, world is the word that was given
As he see me
chill
I feel like a man possessed as of late on a hill
I’d die on it a king before I let em knock my spiel
Rap is not a skill more a gift that I’ve had
Kat. Heh, get that?
Cop Cris' by the six-pack, Range Rov?' Dot six that
Benz Coupe, drop six that
Buggy eye seven come out? Shit, took the six back
like gold mines in Mozambique
Where the folks can't eat, so I stroll to a slow jam beat
Slow dancing, life's no Grand Prix
No race, no pace car,
Darkness seeps into the life
That's filled with doubt
Sharp as knives
It does not care, nor does it have the
Choice tonight
Should it live or die
by respect tho
Close to the king and I'm coming for a check tho
Next to the dollar like I'm Cleflo
So every beat that I'm on, know I'm coming with
home
All that shit that y'all talkin', y'all can pop it to them
'Cause Ludacris will beat you down with a prosthetic limb
I put my foot so deep in yo'
a slave though, always keeping face low
Pace slow (pace slow)
Fake paid (uh) media (khm)
Spinning up on their master's dick
That mini-brain neighbour's will
pullin'
My ticket, nigga you die, soldier
Four killas we creepin' and
Comin' to hurt ya, mo murda
Better pack that five five
I'm feelin' like killin' you
touched her (tits)
Sucker MC's, I'm killing 'em, I'm so sick of seeing 'em
Silly (shit) when they rhyme, like that red rugby shirt worn by Gilligan
Plus
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