The Champ Remix [Mix]

Godzilla bankroll, stones from Sierra Leone Yo I ain't got it all, that means I barely home Trailblazer stay ballin, revenge is my arts Is crafty darts, while y'all stuck on Laffy Taffy Wonderin' how did y'all niggaz get past me I been doin this before Nas dropped the Nasty My wallos I did 'em up, them bricks I send 'em up My raps y'all bit 'em up, for that now stick 'em up Ten Four good buddy Tone got is money up Worth millions still back your bitch lookin bummy what Ya'll staring at the angel of death Liar liar pants on fire You burning up like David Koresh This is architect music, verbal street opera pop a 'tec man fully got the projects booming indeed I ran through the tunnel, Terrorize speed That's when I was still in the jungle slangin that D I'mma go hard on ya'll niggas Dart ya'll niggas out, dropping science To let ya'll know what the kid about I hang like the disco ball, on the floor I'm like John Travolta, suede blazing with my chest showing Rings and them hard jeans, please, I'm comfy in the spot So I'm never handcuffing my queen It's a Theodore movement, glock holding kids With the chocolate boomers, aiyo fuck those rumors Leave your chick around me, I'll get those bloomers Bang that like Desi Arness, with the cowskin cougars Keep staring down the eyes of the champ, anywhere in this rap shit Punk muthafucka, I get you blamped, word life, my throat is high See RiggaTone with the velvet mask on Cleaning his glass arm... Who want to battle the Don? I'm James Bond in the Octagon with two razors Bet cha'all didn't know I had a fake arm I lost it, wild and raw before rap, I was gettin' it on Took a fat nigga out in like 40secs My gun get hard wit a 45 still erects and eagle on Kangol hat slanted coconut bounce to Morocco Guerilla medallions like Flavor Flav clock yo Niggaz want me dead but they scared to step to me Rip they guts out like a hysterectomy When beef collide look on the flip by the penitentiary kite Or get you bumped off from the inside Jaws is hanging Frauds is leftin they draws on the floor complaining Bird ass nigga resemble Keenon Ivory Wayans Stay in your place dirt born rappers get Shadow box for training Ya'll still eatin bacon Yeah nigga, that's right You know you messing with a dart master right now, yo Yo, I've done walked on fire (fire), never got burnt (burnt) Slept on glass (glass), never got cut (cut) And broke a few nose bones, yo, light off a round or two At certain dudes where they dropped they phones Yo this straight crack (yeah), even my hand got tooken to jail For writing murder, my wrist couldn't take it in bail They left my fingers for dead, told 'em "I ain't have nothing to do with the writing" I hold you down when you be squeezing that lead Shopping sprees, with my mans on the corner watch D's Rolling in threes, in them purple capri's' A gritty bop, my watch is bigger, wallo's with the gold tassels Your old slave, with Starkey Love on the shackle And I stay fly underwater, my toes is iced out Poofed the nails off, ya faggots can figure the price out It's chump change, ya'll bitch niggas go get my coco Get my slippers, before I go gun ho! I like the deuce of diamonds cutting spades on a glass table Half a mil on my left ankle Terry cloth Guess shorts robes is comfortable Bring me a nice bitch that means I'll fuck with you My swagger is Mick Jagger, 'stones' is 'rolling' Prestige is cut to it tea spark when weed went up The Cocoa leaf is slightly damp Sprouting in the backyard next to Gran duke tomato plants And jets get charted marquee shit with the cars on it They head and they earl to the toilet and vomit Back East summer MC king since Cuban Pretty Tone Iron Man and Bulletproof and Supreme Cuffi on, double deuce in the jeans My man shape was on the floor with the mother load both of them green IBF WBC Cruiserweight title shots and Rap belts belong to D.C.