Lyrics:
album
To prove you got skills, suck this
I'm makin rappers load they apples pack up, move they wagons
My style like Bruce Lee, MC's walkin into
Zeppelin t shirts
Lemme throw it in reverse
Slam n pummel jerks
Wear your Hello Kitty purse
An Jonas brothers concert merch
Matching nurse outfit
Tryin get
All the money and fame, eight by tens
Of the whole Rat Pack inside of a big frame
Collidin' with big names that could've made your career stop
All
bimmers, black tar that top tier
Rappers dyin' day to day like kids jumping off the pier
I said lemme slide for a feature, he said say less
Peeped the album
a million
Man, I'm a good guy, turned to a vill-i-a-n
Bully in the pack turned to a rat
Pussy on my jack, I (I) hit a bitch with a car bomb
Bombs in L.A.,
esophagus
That'll make ya f***** noggin split
And I B-O-M-B on the track
And I'm a comma kid
Cause I be with the rats
And the cheese on the mind
Seep deep in
rats, pushing suga packs
I couldnt last, so i dashed on a one way ticket
Up Outta dodge, with nothing else but my self and my fucking raps
Fuck a strap,
double CC
All up on my feet feet, pre pre the GG
Not saving no hoe no DC
All this drip can’t be stopped by Riri
With her umbrella,
I’m tryna tell her I
Walk away and say peace
Watch tramp ass hood rats
Walk around with fake gats
Poppin pills of x lax
Beat em down and puttem on the rail road tracks
Bunch
wanna chat
You a rat, I put cheese in the trap
Bullets heat up his back, he not running from that
No Thanos, but I'm bout to
It's Sunday service this gun
my dirty Jesse James
The CEO of dirty and he go by Cornell Haynes
Mean-mugging all you niggas like I hopped up out your dame
I'm like uh-oh, there
I got a black mac and a six pack
I don't work out, I don't chit chat
My bitch bad, I get racks
That Rolls Royce, come gift-wrapped
Them birds still
85%, I'm 400 solid
Brainbolic wit knowledge, cock-diesel scholars
Holdin' it down, walkin' around wit gold by the pound
Frozen down wit diamond bolders
graft
Need a mansion overseas,
Surrounded by palm trees n bad b's
With a couple g's & a private jet I can flight in when I blow this weed
Why these pigs
blowin loud in the traffic
I robbed a nigga twosie in some Rap Lord fashion
Say young'n in the hood, I'm a trap money addict
Cartier glasses, you see
a rat or an opp
He Transforming to a pack
I don't f*** with y'all
I'm just keeping it a stack
How you claim she yours but I Put her on her back
Going
beast, eatin' packs of the cain
Will tha drama eva cease, will they ever know my name
All your niggas whips leased, signed for mine
Out my veins n blood,
when I do it sound like the trap,
Competition left me in flat, I'm just hoping that you trap,
I'm just hoping you try to try me,
Get drag around by
was sitting in the trap
Couldn’t see shit but I still wrote packs
Smoke in my lungs got an ounce in my dacks
I don’t care what you say coz I’m makin
rats I call they ass Jerry
Trap like ja that bitch there be jumping
Moving these packs got uhaul running
Cut my hands off the work I ain't touching
That
to your shit before the devil dip in
I dip in n dip out the block to drop the pack off
The rat that told on my pops got out, he wacked off
I ain't speaking
Smoke em like my cuban cigar
Got like 3 of dem what a pity
King of drill in my city
I was born to hustle but not in a rat race
I run the marathon like
You can reach into your pocket
While I reach into my mind
Clarity is so divine
We just single the design
The physical we inherit
By visions on TV
down 4 fingers
Say fuck the world and Jimmy da earth without Coat hangers
Rap game n street game don't sleep
Its a cold world betta pack yer own
.jpg "The Rat Pack")
Discuss these by n concert album the rat pack Lyrics with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In