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(feat. Joell Ortiz) |
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Giancana back at y'all ******z |
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This ************t is bigger than killin the President |
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Ignor-Entertainment up in this mother****** y'all |
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[Verse One] |
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It's nothing! Infrared beams laser the place |
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Two straps, radiate at the waist, I'm a marksmith |
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Them things bark man, sprayin with haste |
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************t razor gladiator your face, soakin your strip |
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Hoodied up, loc in the whip, pokin the clip |
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Arm extended out the window, chokin the fifth |
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Legend or myth seek a Taliban, hit Babylon |
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Don't misinterpretate the smile of a Don, I'm fowl as a swan |
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Get at you, spit at you with ya child in ya arms |
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Clap at your ************, full semi'matics eclipse |
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Display rage like an evil omen |
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Trust me in the backseat when you drivin |
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I'll pop your ****** cerebral open |
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Take position when them snakes hissin |
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End up nickel-plate kissin, out of state missin |
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Get gravelled in the battles and wars, rattle the four |
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Cause cattle when you rhyme big you sound like you horse |
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Let's do it |
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[Chorus: Joell Ortiz] |
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It's nothing! Dudes'll talk like they killers |
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But they eyes can't disguise the fact they really fear us |
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It's nothing! Them big rims on the truck |
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That slim hoe that you pluck? That flossin'll get you stuck dude |
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It's nothing! This ain't your ordinary rap |
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It's extrordinary scrap - Cris', pour the Henny back like |
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It's nothing! (What's my name?) G Rap, Giancana |
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No throwbacks are fitted, we own rap and spit like |
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It's nothing! |
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[Verse Two] |
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Five star general ranked in the game I don't respect y'all seargeants |
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I wreck you varmints, eject them comments, and wet y'all garments |
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I bank sure as the flames from out them Texas orange |
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Keep fresh hoes in flesh and bondage, collect and garnish |
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This ain't a threat it's a promise; give you a hospital bed |
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And a harness, reps get tarnished if you don't hit that deck |
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For homage and beg for your pardon, G Rap head of the squadron |
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Kid be sent to alarmin; you flipped and stepped out of margin |
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You infuriated the Gods and the stars and |
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The sky's bout to thunder, you low-life come out from under |
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About to heat your winters and drought your summers |
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One right up on your fort, forty-five Colt buckin the horse |
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Give your body your nuts in divorce |
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************ in the dirt, you flip to the earth |
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Check where the hit tip grippin the ************rt |
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Get a flashback, flick to your birth |
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It's war for you mo-rons, we wave four arms |
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Draw with arms, more arms and more arms and more arms |
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G Rap Giancana that raw Don made my bones |
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When I was a young buck I played with chrome |
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Blaze Stallone, get your brains blown, grazin the dome |
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Get my stage on, the rage is on, my ****** |
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.. Yo chill G |
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[Chorus] |
