Lyrics:
the odds against me
6 against 1. I ain’t even break a sweat G
Out here tryna test me, huh
All I make is one phone call
All y’all be gone by tomorrow
I told
that shit
We got toasters in the whip
I got fiends at the door
I be trapping like a bitch
I got workers by the store
They be packing thirty clips
right
The guy who wrote it, yo, his album dropped last night
My pockets on Slim Fast and Jenny Craig
The same clubs and restaurants that kept me well
fingernails
On the muscle of his arm was a red tattoo
A picture of a heart saying "Mother, I love you"
He had a pretty girlfriend by the name of Mary Lou
And expect them not to know what a woman's clitoris is
Of course they're gonna know what intercourse is
By the time they hit fourth grade
They've got
And expect them not to know what a woman's clitoris is
Of course they're gonna know what intercourse is
By the time they hit fourth grade
They've got
were our bread and butter
(this being prior to the
Release of Nevermind in September
Of 1991) we'd hit
The road for months at a time
Coming back with one
Back up back up
Get ya bags and pack up
Need that Mary Jane don’t worry I got my pack up
Don’t try to hit a stain cause nigga I got back up
Niggas
Ladies and gentlemen
Please welcome the underground champion
Of the world he goes by the name MGK
And his flow is timeless
Uh, I let it breathe a lil
do I entertain y'all with my disrespect?
Respectfully (Great John on the beat, by the way)
Lil Nas X gon' catch AIDS and die like Eazy-E (he is)
By way to Overtown and look at this city
Open to Grove and the South Miami
Wedwood Highlear, look Eddie, look 'Bana
Some many ice P-Rhymes rich
Hey Note, I'm tired of these niggaz stealing our shit mayn
D-Red now you know damn well, we started off riding blades
Having the big chains,
bastards
With my ski mask
I'm the first one to want him blasted
Wrapped in plastic
Bullshittin' got his ass hit (Outlawz)
Ain't nothing left now
Treated like
burnup
Sense the fires, hail Mary, they too warm
Get the ash for rain, bury in the swarm, yeah yeah yeah
My nightmares wrong, my nightmares ridden
My
And you ain't got nothing to say (what!)
Well it's album number two right (yeah)
So you gotta let 'em know (that's right)
So do your thing (yeah)
Take
else)
Fuck arguing and harvesting the feelings, yo, I'd rather be by my fucking self
(Self, self, self, self)
'Til about two AM And I call back and I
Tryna play and the K spray
It's equipped with the beam
All you rap niggas
Full of cap
My shit better than most
And I don't even rap
Hidden Gem album
Betty bye to you other guys, you ain't getting on my level here
Step aside when I'm getting mines, I won't let it slide
See, well aware
Oh my god, hit
talk, just hit my line
You was like my best friend growing up, yeah, I promise we'll be fine
And God said, keep your friends close, but your opposition's
Now we're gonna play a song now
Uh This song is from an album called One Size
Fit's All well I'm surprised you people
Have heard of it didn't sell
right
The guy who wrote it, yo, his album dropped last night
My pockets on Slim Fast and Jenny Craig
The same clubs and restaurants that kept me well
{Aight, what's goin on, what's goin on
What's the deal pa, where you headed son?}
(Yo I'm bout to go to the studio and lay smash hit
Wit my Uncle Run,
Cause if you ain't yourself you end up by your freaking self
I'm coming rugged with the Linden Boule type of slang
And yo, we'll see who can hang yo
Ai yi yi my dreads, I think I'm toxic
Well yo I'm cuckoo but not for Cocoa, some say I'm loco
Fuck around and catch a cap like Mary Buttafuoco
So
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