God on the Mic

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Luis Castro

3:28

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Don't be... 8.5
Fucking wit a god on the mic like me
Catch em wit the weapon when I murder these beats
I ain't scared of these streets shit I'm one of these beasts
Hit em wit the venom adrenaline's all I need
Im'a rock like Tupac's glocks in a shoebox 
Two shots popped
Got em poppin' out they Tube-top
Two knocks ,Wit boot tops
Im on the roof top
Droppin more lead then a terrorist in jewel shop

(Verse 1)
Two cops
Ride by
Loose lock
High sign
Whip around
Blue lights
Hit em wit the drive by
cnybody can die tonight
Duct tape
Ski mask
I'll take
3 bands
Shots Fired
Leave fast
Duckin when they bustin we bustin back at 
They fucking ass

I ain't no bitch
I'ma run up wit the grip
Hollow tips
Bussin' through the whip
Make em all dip
Got chips
Like ritz
I'm grabbin' it by the fist
Shit, I ain't Rick James
But I'm just sayin'
"I'm rich bitch"
Cold coke slang 
Got the mother fucking Caine
Running through my veins
Like I'm on the run
Gotta get away
Hit the bank
What's the code to the mother fucking safe
Hit the fucking button,
Won't none of you bitches get away

Won't stop for the the motherfucking cops
Headlock on the pedal
Ima barrel through the roadblock
Load glocks wit enough bullets to make the show stop
Dead from the lead in his head,
He said "He was cold cocked"
Fold rocks up into little pieces of coke knots
Old thots moving the weight
They making my dough shop
Door locks get kicked in
cfter the fourth knock
More shots, fill him wit holes
You see his soul drop!?

(Chorus)
Fucking wit a god on the mic like me
Catch em wit the weapon when I murder these beats
I ain't scared of these streets shit I'm one of these beasts
Hit em wit the venom adrenaline's all I need
Im'a rock like Tupac's glocks in a shoebox 
Two shots popped
Got em poppin' out they Tube-top
Two knocks ,Wit boot tops
I'm on the roof top
Droppin' more lead then a terrorist in jewel shop

(Verse 2)
Duel Glocks
Nineteens
Flip switch
Red Beams
Shut up bitch
Just take these bullets when I pull it
I'm pulling up give 'em wet dreams
Nightmares 
Cold sweats
Payin' off
Old debts
Tempt me
Taken bold steps, 
Steppin' to the best and you bound to be laid to fucking rest

I ain't no joke
Lil bitch a get broke
Cut throat
Make 'em all choke
Like an overdose
From the smoke
Have the 4
5 shaking like a stroke
You can end up being like Owen Wilson
cnd get ya nose broke

Tote both thangs
I'ma maufuckin' bang
Til' I hang
Like a gold chain
Run DMC gang
Spittin' flame
Like I'm Wu-Tang
I'm "Back In The Game"
You gon' know my name
Preach
That's on everything

On God
Got the maufuckin squad
On quads
Make ya heart art
"School of Juilliard"
Im'a park
When the shit start
Hit em wit Jihad
From the dark
Kick him wit the shod
I  hum "Doo Lay Laa"
Spare the rod
This is no facade
Ima play the odds
You can deal the cards
Im'a james bond
In a foreign car
Disregard any regards 
For having being scarred
Pick apart a bitch on the mic,
So you don't ever start

(Chorus)
Fucking wit a god on the mic like me
Catch em wit the weapon when I murder these beats
I ain't scared of these streets shit I'm one of these beasts
Hit em wit the venom adrenaline's all I need
Im'a rock like Tupac's glocks in a shoebox 
Two shots popped
Got em poppin' out they Tube-top
Two knocks ,Wit boot tops
I'm on the roof top
Droppin' more lead then a terrorist in jewel shop

(Verse 3)
Hit em wit alot when I rock like this
Non-stop.
Get ya best drop
Top this shit
Ima beast when I Fucking leash shots like this
From the streets when I bring heat
Popping that bitch
Won't knock 
Hit the dead lock
Get ya head rocked
Wit the mop
Yeah I'm out top
Fucking with the cops
Getting hot
Watch em all drop
Flippin like flops
Ore-to the -ville
Red n' Bocker pop pop pop pop pop

Back to the money like a fiend to the trap/
Tryna see me, you get seen wit the Mac;
No Shaq, but the pressure got ya bitches leaned back/
From the pack, in the matte black bag in the back;
Matter fact, you can even get the sack for the half/
Im'a stack like a crack head buying out the trap;
But relax, cuz you know his ass coming right back/
PcP PcP on the door, tryna order another slab;
Like, this maufucka got money/
Til he hit the work, then he give it all to me;
You can come and get it from me, sheetrock for the dummies/I ain't fronting nothing but the fiends still come running;
Stay huntin like Fud, snow bunnies getting fucked/
Shotgun pumped, your can have the wabbit  if you want;
2 blunts and a bump got a maufucka crunk/
Get slumped fucking wit a G
You can get fucked up

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