Come Correct (feat. Busty & A.Ware)
BRD & Busty & A.Ware
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Look yeah Y'all gone come get correct or come get nothing Yeah pull up to this smoke see if we puffing Yeah how you say that talk but still stay ducking Yeah pull up to this clique see if we bluffing I’m in a whole nother lane This a gas to a flame I’m the best in the capita Rest of the map in here peeking They seeking my skills But they weep when they can’t hit my calibre Levels of stamina King of my town then I moved to the city Now ruling two different parameters You ride a long like a passenger Pussy I’m driving I’m drifting then causing a massacre Yeah Causing a massacre Music the fountain the youth I see you deep in my comments I see your self conscious I know that you know that shit too Weed getting rolled that’s for me and my crew Smoke to we holy like gods in the coupe Devils on my shoulder Never pulling over Holly water on the mic I’m blessing up this booth It's Busty Yeah Living the life Smokin and dreamin I'm taking a flight Melbourne to Sydney I'm bound to be high Sippin the kraken I'm back on the hype Words are out playing I watch while I write Guarding my thoughts when they deep in the mind Supervise lyrics I spit on the mic And I copyright everything F*ck what you try Sending you back to the stu cause your frightened I’m cursing you all with the low blows Showboat every time I make lil paper Lilboat I float with the gold anchor And I gotta be the one to build a ladder mother fucker All the rappers with same plan that I came with Just aimed and sprayed these flames bringing mayhem To the table we finna upset labels! It ain’t no thang for me to just hop on the beat and get reckless All of these flows that I done been blessed wid All of these rappers is feeling the pressure Like a bullet goin through where there chest is I’ma get rowdy I'ma get loud I’m telling you no one can do it like me I do the most I get ya bitch in the cab and leave there’s nothing to see Don’t be hittin up my phone when Im in the stu Cause I’m here working I be reppin for da ADL If you didn’t know that’s the city of churches I’m another living legend Write my name on the wall of fame If you didn’t know now you know Write it down bitch you better remember the name Y’all better stay in your lane This is my game and I'll blow up the speakers I'm eager to bring it all back to the sneaker A heater 200 degrees and no fever No I ain't about it but f*ck all you peasants I'm stamping my feet and I'm teaching you lessons The menace is back and I'm bringing my weapons Come correct bitch or taste my venom Mother fuckers making shit so cringy Then I hit em with this shit so smoothly Got a killa instinct no movie Just moving I’m winning You’re losing We out here 3 of us making it happen like nothing We fucking the game and they hate us we loving it Hit you back to back to back we run it Look ya'll gone come get correct or come get nothing Yeah we came for the smoke so lets get puffing Yeah how you say that talk but still stay ducking Yeah pull up to this clique see if we bluffing boy Pitch black Who dat? Mans got a gun boy shoot back Prozac Kodak Blaring in my ears while I throw back Who dat? Who dat? We a wolf pack We hear the click clack We taking you you out better pull back I’m robbing you you now give me all that 16 with a dollar and a dream bumping j cole They ain’t wanna ride when the pays low Now it’s only 6 figure plays when I say so Young boy chillinit I had all these skills but I was laying low From the burbs every curse I rehearsed Got em turnt I done learn every turn Theres a curse yeah Used to have to burn For the verbs to be perf Now I hit a fucking show And the crowds learnt the words From the school of Shady jay z Wayne and notorious Sentences penned in cemented my flawlessness Said that I’m up next I heard from the audience Killing this shit K/D feel like a warrior Bumping BRD and A. Ware Aware I’m a beast I’m a king I’m a god you all toast I’m the one you all wrong I’m the son I’m the don I’m Lebron I’m the mafucking goat What they saying to me? Busty Pitch black Who dat? Mans got a gun boy shoot back Prozac Kodak Blaring in my ears while I throw back Who dat? Who dat? We a wolf pack We hear the click clack We taking you you out better pull back I’m robbing you you now give me all that Man imma hit em with the cash flow Bash all hitters with them racks Y’all call me asshole I’mma fit it Hit the back slow Feel the clap oh that’s winnin Sitting raps till they bring the diss tracks back But bitches never diss against the ill T Man death wishin Oh you moving for the rap beef? Man I’m sendin all my homies from the back streets Catch em boy they running Run the game in the G town Lackings never present Bring da pain now Bring da pain now Bring the game I’m equipped with all these weapons Reckon shit won’t feel the same now Stick the aim up Green dot on your face Watch em disappear these lyrics hit you hard They blow your brains out Kids won’t even notice he’s erased Stay down woah F*ck your feelings bitch you better stay way down hoe Sick of all this bullshit on my feed Time to eat up all these pussy rappers Racking all you bitches in defeat uh Pitch black Who dat? Mans got a gun boy shoot back Prozac Kodak Blaring in my ears while I throw back Who dat? Who dat? We a wolf pack We hear the Flow crazy you wanna step in the warzone You try spitting these bars you’ll get a sore throat This kind of fire can only come from a dragon I been released from the dungeon And killin rappers with more smoke Say my name cause you're just givin me more clout But be aware when I pull up on you it’s goin down I ain’t afraid of you suckaz homie that’s no doubt I done went to war with myself and still I walked out I don’t ever sleep I just rap Vampire vibin Walk into my sound You gone think we need a fire hydrant Leave em dead can somebody call the ambulance I can not compete wid these rappers cause they hilarious So never put my name in debates Cause I ain’t wid it Put me up against your favourite rapper Guaranteed I’m winnin I’m sick sick like viruses 2020 lifestyle My time to show and I can’t be late like court trials I got your bitch doing tricks on my penis ha She wish that you was like me a fuckin genius ha I’m the realest out my city I put money on it And now this beat got em bouncing like they bunny hoppin
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Written by: Arthur Ware, Bobby Dick, Nicholas Carter
Lyrics © DistroKid
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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"Come Correct (feat. Busty & A.Ware) Lyrics." Lyrics.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 25 Apr. 2024. <https://www.lyrics.com/lyric-lf/5485702/BRD+%26+Busty+%26+A.Ware/Come+Correct+%28feat.+Busty+%26+A.Ware%29>.
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