Lyrics:
Cam, niggas is fuckin' finished (yeah)
This shit too easy for me now
Nigga, Cole been goin' plat' since back when CDs was around
What you sold, I
when I build my shit it's gone be something like this
Little rich ass niggaz sitting on top of the cliff
Cars parked all the way down the street
I bet
(get on your knees and pray)
And all you niggas hating, shut your mouths (haha)
It's just the real niggas ain't buying that shit y'all put out
Doe,
(Men Talking)
You know what I'm sayin though, yo I been hearin shit about this kid X, man
I think that nigga bullshit(Yeah) word up,I been hearin mad
What it do, Loc? Yeah
We up in this motherfucker
On some murder, murder, kill, kill shit (uh)
Yeah, The Butcher comin', nigga
On some real
that he learn, ha?
Life's a bitch, ha?
Niggas be beggin' but you ain't givin' 'em shit, ha?
You stealin' the bricks, ha?
You got a wife and three
What it do, Loc? Yeah
We up in this motherfucker
On some murder murder, kill kill shit (uh)
Yeah, some real hip-hop shit (yeah, Guè)
Murder
The Lord's blessings leave me lyrically inclined (uh-huh)
Shit, I ain't even gotta try to shine (woo)
God's the seamstress that tailor fitted my pain
I got
block with two Glocks
Screamin', "Fuck the world" like 2Pac (I just don't give a fuck)
Talkin' that shit behind my back, dirty mackin'
Tellin' your
got that drink
Could be purple or could be pink
'Pending on how you mix that shit
Money to be got and I'ma get that shit
'Cause I'm on one
I said,
cake different
Way I'm pullin' up, boy, you can't miss it
Watch on water, yeah, my shit drippin'
Rollin' the loud, she love my style right now
Man
Hah
Cook that shit up Quay
It's Gucci (Evil)
Hah (Genius)
Fast coupe, haha (Nyoom)
Hah
(Mr. Nice Guy, haha)
If you ain't 'bout lettin' that
We ain't messin' around
Shits about to go down
This is for real, this is for real
We ain't playin' no games
Do you hear what I'm sayin'?
This is
writer, and for the right price
I can even make YO' shit tighter
I roast niggaz like ya, smoke niggaz like ya
Take your little jewels and put the toast
love with street shit
No wonder why I feel awkward at this Fashion Week shit
No wonder why I keep fucking up the double-cheek kiss
And long for that
and piss off the people
Who kiss up to the establishment, haven't you seen they ego?
Like me, no
I used to do this shit 'cause I loved it, busted for free
(Hit-Boy)
Where would I go?
You know real (where would I go?)
Real big boss shit (where would I go?)
Distinguished gentleman shit
Real street
(arh!)
My raps don't have melodies
This shit make niggas wan' go and commit felonies
Get your chain tooken
I may do it myself, I'm so Brooklyn
I know
studio D
That underground shit, L train across town shit
This that Nas, it's like Queensbridge, king, crown shit
Study my lyricism whenever you and your
Bitch, I'm back and it's up, PSA (whoa, whoa)
I'm too fleek to take off all my shit at TSA (fleek)
I know we met today, but I'ma need that shit
Yo, yeah
Don't erase none of that good shit in the beginnin'
Yo, spill drinks on ya, get stank on ya
Yo, yo, pinky ring shit, yo
That pinky ring
a young nigga
Probably never understand us
'Til he pull in Phantom
When he pull up in a Phantom
He gon' have that shit blasting
Like young nigga, just
This real talk type shit, I swear to God
We just don't call this shit drink, you know I'm sayin'?
Lil bitch, you ridin' niggas dicks like a bitch,
hear what you say, I ain't finna do shit
If it ain't about the money
Bitch, you can miss me with it, bitch nigga miss me with it
I'm packin' 11, I'm
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