Lyrics:
words, "Send for the law," uh
Two words, Freeway, slightly retarded
Fuck around, throw a clip in your artist, leave with his broad
Red, white blue,
words, "Send for the law," uh
Two words, Freeway, slightly retarded
Fuck around, throw a clip in your artist, leave with his broad
Red, white blue,
that
Clutch back with a clutch back with the clip ram real artist paint bloody picture
Approach with caution me harm man MP5 with a Carbine gun we nuh
I’m still on AIM
Hit a nigga from a distance that’s automatic
Emptying my clip on all artists is target practice
Can’t afford but I been working hard
mamma pasta in
I don’t play games I just rock your chin
You fuck with cops? I never let the impostors in
See Vinnie give you a whole clip
I’m
cuz he's swish shit
I don't beg for money but I got millions on my wish list
You only care about 2K, I'll make a play and tell him clip this
Trap P's
make up
Washing off so easily
Hot clip senda
Vision on director
Artist no collector
Long as you
Keep handing out
Them hits with no
Suppressor
I could
taken too far
Unloads the clip
Reads the Obituary
Your favorite artist dead and gone
(La la la la lalalalalala) x4
Your favorite artist dead and gone
mouth
Artist see my freestyle and think I got the clout
Charge em for a feature all that money hit the house
I don't see a dime
I don't see a dime
Part III, Gotti Gambino
And Ty Nitty, Scarface rest in peace
[Chorus]
Yo, the heavy metal king hold big shit, with spare clips
You seein clips
Ayy, ayy, ayy
Ayy, ayy, ayy
(Hit-Boy)
Ayy, this that Clipse sample, ayy (G.Ry got me)
Fuck that talkin', let the clip slam 'em
Yellow bands
Them tell me them bad but them no bad yet
Tell me them ah shotta but the boy ah shot breath
Ah wam to some lilly artist
Them ah run up dem beat up
rest in peace
[Chorus]
Yo, the heavy metal king hold big shit, with spare clips
You seein clips when the mac spit your top got split
Layin dead
Cut and paste the pieces of my skin into a tapestry
Clip off a bit of hair, put some at the top there
A collage of no substance, a piece of no
combined, put on all the people, we all shine
Every mother of the clique created
[Verse 2: Prodigy]
Yo, the heavy metal king hold big shit, with spare clips
We some
Deep space shooters
Full clip ruga
Bitch I'm servin' free smoke
Hit 'em with the 'zooka
It's enough to go around, don't sweat it
We don't
Big ol' margins
Hoodie on low, now I feel like I'm artist
I'm move the smartest
Walk in the club, I don't even get carded
Mama look what you started
of razor blades
But I'm not
I got outta that game
Escape artist
I talked till I'm red in my face
With strange califs
I rocked till I'm outta my range
one-time (one-time)
I ain't gotta tell you
Ayo, it's right in front of your eyes
Yo, the heavy metal king, hold big shit with spare clips
You see
feelings, what's wrong with niggas
Forgetting silence is still a response
The way the blood paint the wall you can tell he really an artist
I get it like
From the darkness, how we learned to grow
I'm a artist, on my pedestals
Not the smartest, nor my IQ low
Be the largest, all the time I glow
Be
4eign
A, yuh
A Artist man
Yuh
I just went digital Joe
Yuh
Yeah Scales
Yuh
Music
Yuh
Gang gang gang gang gang
I went and got me a bag bag
I put my
Dip out
Pull up LaFerrari
When we whip out
Switch out
Pull up with the cannons
And they nick out
Switch out
Pull up with a baddie
And the clip out
one-time (one-time)
I ain't gotta tell you
Ayo, it's right in front of your eyes
Yo, the heavy metal king, hold big shit with spare clips
You see
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