Lyrics:
wit a Mobsta
Fuck the car jack we do a body snatch
Tie niggas up in the trunk wit them rats like a mac for owning scratch
SpeedKnot?s unstoppable
green and that white
Buckin in the club showin love
To the Kaze clique cause we in this bitch
Juicy J and Paul got some sounds
That'll make a thug rich
mess yes let's it poppin' y'all,
Am I fazed by em not at all,
'Cause haters don't know dick if they don't posses the cock n balls,
This is Egypt,
to get them right back
Invest in ourselves to strengthen the pack
We are not the same and hell no we could Never be
We are astronomical were speeding thru
we're playing for endurance
You know how long can you last in that ring
Cause I'm tryna be the last man standing
And I feel like that's what makes me
I see his partner in that, yeah
Uh, it got a big body frame
Uh, and it look like a Moussaint
Uh, I don't got nothing to say
So, we gotta switch up
This way harder than my last shit
Than my past shit
In the whip I got her heart racing
This some fast shit
When we spin nobody see us nigga
This
ADAM!
Hahahaha
YSL for life
Whole team need a big check when we get racks then we ball some
Might pull up in a black Benz or the Mulsanne when we all
to become Mufasa
Got scarred up, in a heart that was pure
Hakuna Matatas a luxury we can't afford
Traumatised by winter nights, cool, I keep going
Now its
by City Hall found that London
Has seen an increase of 71%
In victims of serious youth violence since 2012
The Mayor says this is linked
are
She a bad girl look the that way she twerk
I'm a bad man I got racks in my pants
Tulumya all de girls we break different hearts
Bwoba oyagala kulya
the man with the plan
Mic in his hand and a fresh skit
R-O-U-G-H-E-R, rougher! So here we are
Face to face, mic to mic, man to man
While your battle
pain
And pleasure, in every single measure
You miss being kissed by this lyrical treasure
Enjoy it at your leisure, cause it's gonna please ya
Master
The Jordan's from 92' what's on my feet
That b*tch a bird I'm annoyed by her beak
Off of the trip wit my n**gas we geeked
She got some percs in her system she's
Clint Eastwood, 'stead of bullets, rhymes I pack
In my flow gun, so son, ya better run,
'Cause when it comes to hostage and prisoners, we take none.
We
niggars and they how the poh poh attack us
whenever we find ourselves in the ghetto don't judge me by ma hairstyle
no no
y'all better know that we trap
'cause, bitch, i’m here now
My niggas end up beefing 'fore I can get out
Can’t be playing both sides
I’m in the rear now and if we beefing
That's something
Plane just land in Jamaica
Two pockets fulla dead paper
Hundred Dollar bill blue facer
Designer shoes Italian maker
Yeah mi do it big mi do it major
stays in the highlights
Everything going real fast
But I like to take it slow like a drive by
Sitting on a beach
Watch the sun rise
What’s the next step
Nickel Da O.J. Da Glove
I got a Posse of Insane Clowns
Blow your brains on your opposite ear
And ask you how your brain sound
Bad, Evil, we go Alfred
tap on pace
drum line drum line hit them the bass
13 amendments but we still n the race
black fox on move Jim Crow gave chase
90 degrees put it all in
propellers, blowin' mozzarella
Lotta niggas in the club, who cares? I'm the realest
Tell the waitress, uh, we gon' need more cases
And when you think
the things I want
I'm looking for the rest of you
I need to feel your soul
Yeah, kick it solo, no posse
Tryna rid all my problems
Cause I'll be on my own in
drama and go in hiding simple
These times are getting harder
I work hard and then I work smarter
I know we guided by the same father
Just keep ya head
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