Lyrics:
the floor
Six feet under the floor
Oh! Be still my beating heart.
My lungs collapse in on themselves.
Your face is the last face I will see in hell.
Where
them, they be on your case
You go under, six feet underground
You gets no love from the Oaktown
I drive my top everyday like a movie star
Drive
Pryor
(Aren't you a male dancer?) No, bitch, I'm retired
Fuckin' your bitch in the ass with a tire iron
I'm ripped, I'm on an acid trip
My DJ's in
Niggas left with they ass bleeding
Lyrical fucking (Woah)
Open up, first to bust, let me see your heart
Turn the lights down 'cause I
Might clown in
knows how I feel
Good God Almighty
That stuff ain't real
No but that ain't your game, it ain't even your race
You can't hear your name, you can't
To the rhythm of the boogie, the beat
Now, what you hear is not a test I'm rappin' to the beat
And me, the groove, and my friends are gonna try to move your
real)
Couldn't hear that, I need to run my life (nope, word)
I'm like the big king and she like my queen wife (no doubt, done know)
She lookin' good in
thirteen year old boobs
I'd hang out by the junior
High like my dad does
Tom: Hey
You know what I learned in fifth grade?
Mark: What's that
Your dad has
employed nigga but I'm no Dame Dash
Top of my class I ball without
A shot in my ass without a doubt
These niggas rubbing off like Henna
They go behind your
employed nigga but I'm no Dame Dash
Top of my class I ball without
A shot in my ass without a doubt
These niggas rubbing off like Henna
They go behind your
my house
'Fore I grab you by your hair and slap dick to your mouth
Bob Digi, yeah you know who is he
Girl, I fucking slave trade your ass
've been there myself many times and it's nice to hear
Somebody who can talk
That knows something about what's happening
I just wanted to record this
If you
You got the Prada boots on suede hitting your thigh
Acting like my chrome twenties ain't catching your eye
Sometimes I slow down catch the ass in
wanna hit twice
If I hit twice, wanna hit three times
I wanna see my name live when I'm gone
I'm gonna write it, put it in a song
All my real fans,
the pair, by the three (By the pair)
Chopper soundin' like a snare in a beat (Like a snare)
I'm from the A, I love your ass, it's a peach (Peach)
Where I
the beat
Just move your feet yeah just move your feet
Never sell my soul this ain't offerup
All these rappers trash I think I've had enough
Paving my own
in my face, so gimme three feet
'Cause when we creep, no more than three deep, niggas see sheep
Bloodhounds found your shit buried in the mud
me to put a toe or an ankle in
My feet are pumped and primed for tanglin’
I hope your junk's ready for a hardcore manglin’
Badass bipedal, both pedals
and Big Kap on the wheels
In two laps, I give Stella Her Groove Back
My middle name must be, "Fuck You"
'Cause every time I walk by
Niggas be like,
and Big Kap on the wheels
In two laps, I give Stella Her Groove Back
My middle name must be, "Fuck You"
'Cause every time I walk by
Niggas be like,
This is as long as a nigga rap
Pull up in the Lamb, man I took your ho
And I'm from the A, I say my name Quavo
Pull up in that Rolls, everything rose
Spit it like that 48 more times.
Guns drawn I’m shootin first.
Blew your ass to Jupiter.
Tiny Executioner.
Baddest bitch in the Universe.
G, felt my tomahawk
Apache, that's me, I'm getting rappers' ass
1 motherfucking 2 motherfucking 3
[Chorus: x4]
[Treach]
You could of been my
name
Every nigga is called Jaquees, Delonte, Sedrick
I got 3m
I got 3m shining on my feet yeah
You know I'm making noise on repeat yeah
Outta my way I
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