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Ayo, I'm yappin' these jewels, clappin' these dudes |
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A straight born killa, it's QB Borough nigga, untamed gorillas |
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Niggas that put holes in squealers, dope dealers |
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I see police flashin' through my rear view mirror |
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Put the brick in my waist, tighten my belt |
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Safety off the nine, they gotta kill me for mine |
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I'm flaotin', left lane open where I could get through |
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The cop blazed the pistol, busted out my back window |
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I skidded out, now I'm outta control |
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Slammed on the break and shot out the rear do' |
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I'm hearin' ambulance sirens, I kept firin' |
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It's gotta be them 'cause I ain't dyin' |
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I'm bonin' out, bit the top off a Guinness stout |
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Pour some out, Bravehearts no doubt |
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I glove niggas, uppercut thug niggas |
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Look at my mug, you can tell that I'm bugged niggas? |
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Why it feel good to be real and reveal who's fake? |
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Why y'all niggas got the girly mouth? Why we feel great? |
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Why y'all look mad with a frowned face? |
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Why the hoes love the Gods, Bbravehearts, Nas and Nash? |
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Why them Bravehearts roll hard with nickel plates? |
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With big slugs that can't be traced and why y'all look so corny? |
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Tryin' to imitate these real niggas that'll punch you in your face? |
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I saw niggas get smacked and have the street thinkin' they real |
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Saw niggas wives and knew 'em as the cum drinkin' girls |
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Hosaditty, she act like she innocent |
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She act like her pussy is place that no nigga been |
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Why she act like she never met me? She can't forget me |
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Thugs respect me, jealous niggas say F me |
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'Cause my cruise shots like Lefty and Sunny Black |
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Your hoes wanna lick honey out my crack |
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I'll fart in your bitch mouth, she call me psychic |
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'Cause I knew she would like it |
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Push fleet wood Caddy's feelin' righteous, I eat good |
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No red meat, I like fish, Y'all never in your life seen money |
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I live like a gangster from the Nineteen Twenties |
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Smuggle bootleg liquor, I shoot 'till you dead nigga |
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I'm about bread, these rhymes is off the head nigga |
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Wear Esco leathers and Esco fleece |
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I could flow over techno beats and rep the streets |
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You a one verse assasin, I'm a multiple LP long lastin' |
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Peekin' again, grimy nigga with different color ink in my skin |
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Former low life, now I'm the bling bling king, respect it |
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See me with the shit I say on record, not like these fake thugs |
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Please, wake up if I die, I'ma rise from the grave with two four fives |
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And maggots in my eyes to make niggas pay |
