Lyrics:
for my folks, vice, lords, and kings
All the trappers, future rappers, standin' out on the blocks
Tryna get up out the hood mayne, and stack 'em a knot
It's perfect timing on em
I'm climbing up the ladder, yeah I'm rising on em
I came up out the dirt, I'm a diamond on em
And they aint see it coming
do I entertain y'all with my disrespect?
Respectfully (Great John on the beat, by the way)
Lil Nas X gon' catch AIDS and die like Eazy-E (he is)
for a profit
Then they might just react (Wow-ow-ow)
I never spun a block, man
I just hit 'em with the spin kick
(Ooh woah-oah) i get straight to bidness
Fish, count em up
Reel em in, roll em up
With me Brodie from Marrakech in the lighthouse
Out getting loaded then start fucking some fish mouth
Gull keep
come through
A madman on the loose
I hit em and spit em
Down the middle when I get em
Armageddon when I'm ripping
And I step in when I'm flipping
Like
The game been good to me, and I know that muhfucka bless you
Thanks for passin game, now let's get out here and make this loot
TSI won't stop rappin, I
shittin' on em, I smell like a winner
Don't hit the bathroom for like forty, forty-five minutes
Redman and we up in this bitch, huh
I never cruise, I work
not in da plans
I`m dead serious like as in response I hit niggaz in the head
P.R. the thoroughbred comes through intellectual
I rap lyrical, always
style
Niggas on the hit out, ay yo Iron bite my shit out
Eventually, bust a rap gun mentally
Been doin' this century kid, just meant to be
Get on your
Locked up, mama couldn't get me out (huh?)
Called my nigga Bookie, he got me out (come on)
Kk got my back, ain't no doubt
Player made, free my bro, let
niggas rowdy
My tank dogs coming through, where them niggas at
Ready to hit em, P, pass me them thangs, let me get em
Chorus x4
[Magic]
INTRO:
S.u.p tell it,
Go,
And this yo man James Free back on air,
Backing up by yo man Faith Child,
What,...
CHROUS:
Don't lie,don't hate,don't
with Shep and Bills
And im still out here tryna get this cream
Peng girl tryna call my line caus she heard
From her friend's I'm about to blow
I got ten
no drinkin' when I type, typo
Ain't no b-day, hype man by code (Code)
Your dude talk shit, we gon' get him out of sight yo
Lines get crossed, no
Talk, Holiday Styles, S-P or whatever you choose
A pound of weed, four guns and a liter of booze
Chew niggas out they shoes, what
Come and fuck
his church ain't right
Deacon is a pimp, tell by his eyes
Mrs. Parks said, "Brother Starks, meet you at the numbers spot
Heard you got red tops out
his church ain't right
Deacon is a pimp, tell by his eyes
Mrs. Parks said, "Brother Starks, meet you at the numbers spot
Heard you got red tops out
When I cock back and hop out the van
Double R, get a job, play the shit in the car
Hit a party start a fight at the bar, and snatch your R
Sell your
'em all)
Kill 'em all (kill 'em all)
Kill 'em all (kill 'em all)
Kill 'em all (kill 'em all)
Yeah
Any rapper can get it, I'm sending headshots,
ridin' with us
Or gettin' rolled on
That means Detroit versus everybody
Hey Em
Let me get that instrumental, take it down to the hood
Let the little
hurt murked put 'em in the dirt
Boy you better catch me first
So you finally get hurt murked put 'em in the dirt
Boy you better catch me first
So you
on get 'em up)
(Come on get 'em up)
(Come on get 'em up)
[Chorus: x 2]
(Yeah, yeah, yeah)
(Yeah)
I get a feeling of peace
From a low so high
tied in
Snake niggaz and bum bitches they get the Heisman
You owe me money im counting to ten get to hiding
The earth a small place guaranteed i'm
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