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Man, y'all rap niggas is high fashion |
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Flashin, talker, no action |
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Read emcees like |
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TV's with captions |
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Charts we smash on, guns we blast them |
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Spit fire like blow dryers and drag dash on |
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Your career won't last long, real name |
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Shawn Lassiter |
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Four words for y'all, |
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F type no passenger |
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Flow nastier, man you know what |
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I mean And |
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I keep them diamonds shinin blue, yellow, and green |
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So the wrist look like a twister mat |
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Man, I cock the biscuit back and twist ya cap |
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Opps, clipped ya face just missed ya hat |
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This go out to those that think this just a rap |
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Well mister, address the gat and we'll address ya back |
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Nasty, nasty, spittin discusting raps |
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And I doubt that cha'll cats can fuck with that |
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Chorus: You don't wanna war, you don't wanna drummer boy |
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These Ryde |
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Or Die Boyz will rough you up |
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You don't wanna war, you don't wanna drummer boy |
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These Ryde |
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Or Die Boyz will touch you up |
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You don't wanna war, you don't wanna drummer boy |
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These Ryde |
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Or Die Boyz will bust you up |
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You don't wanna war, you don't wanna drummer boy |
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You don't want no drummer boy [Larsiny] |
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I hate cops, and |
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I like you even less |
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I turn your whole block into a bleedin mess |
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Niggas talk hard, and get an easy death ' |
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Cuz I pop buck shots like |
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I'm ??? And |
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I can tell you won't blow, gotta scary finger |
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All talk, no show, |
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Jerry Springer |
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I don't care if you a skinny or a burly nigga |
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I'ma have ya face lookin like a blurry mirror |
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We shake your features, y'all make believers |
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And the eight'll make you shake like you fake the seizure |
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I ball of the scale, break the meter |
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And if you ever go to jail, they'll rape and beat'cha |
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Hold up, take a breather, |
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I'm way too tough |
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Got kicked outta pre-school, played to rough |
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I straight grew up, |
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I'm still a bully |
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Used to take your lunch money now |
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I steal your jewelry |
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Ha, okay, okay, okay, okay |
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Okay, okay, okay, okay |
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Chorus [Yung Wun] |
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Don't make me reach for these, |
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I got heat to squeeze |
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Make your face melt like pizza cheese |
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You need to leave, 'cuz you don't stand a chance man |
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I get greasy like mechanic hands |
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Y'all niggas all sweet like candy yams |
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Clear blocks outs, hop out the family van |
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Lookin like a handy man, with tools on the waist |
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Put'choo in the ambulance with two's in your face |
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You'se a disgrace, you've never been hot |
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And I can tell how you talkin you ain't never been shot |
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Yo, its whatever or not, if you want it, its war |
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You can choose what |
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I'ma use, the pump or the four |
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Then decide where you gon' die, trunk of the floor ' |
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Cuz I'ma tell the law |
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I don't know nothing at all |
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I was just walkin my dog and discovered the ball |
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A lotta niggas think they hard, this is somethin for y'all |
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Chorus Okay, okay, okay, okay |
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Okay, okay, okay, okay |
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Chorus |
