Lyrics:
What's crackin?
Hi my name is Prophet
Me and Ken been back in action
LA, Chi Town, Phoenix
Flying over all distractions
Different skyline, same ol
concepts, new tools, new weapons
By analyzing the past, Sage can project into the future
I used to think that rappers had it figured out
Brass Monkey,
Two for the show
And three for
Barbiturates
For drugs sex money
And guns
The omnipotent
For dough boys
Rickies and treys
JOHN SINGLETON
Willie Jones
This is one for my constituents
Two for the show
And three for
Barbiturates
For drugs sex money
And guns
The omnipotent
For dough boys
Rickies and treys
de sperme sur leggings
Dans l'Rap Game y'a que des salopes
La vie d'ma mère, y'a que des salopes
Donc j'sors mon gun, j'baisse mon fut'
Toutes
getting thicker
A little bird told me not talking bout Twitter
Baby I'm colder than winter
I can tell just by the way that you shiver
I'm putting dick in ya
gusta mi flow, yo lo sé (pah)
Ando arma'o, yo que tú corro
Tengo par de putas, quieren sex
Y me las chingo con gorro
Les doy bien duro como es
Y se
like a mu'fucking trolley
Chopper gon' blow him from LA to Raleigh
Lean in my cup and I'm popping a molly
Stay with the gas, I ain't talking unleaded
So
She’s one of a kind
Oh what a life
I live for the times
I’m a wolf in disguise
Plotting all your demises
If sex appeal was a gun
Aye then I blow your
It's on when he touch that cause he can get enough bricks
When I was young he told me not to run, I pop my gun pa
You can ask gun or la la love then aim
put E before the D, 'cause that's all you on
You on Pac's dick (bitch), you a replica, guy
If he was still alive, you would never get by (for real)
drive
Nigga, you's a window shopper
Mad as fuck when you see me ride by
Niggas love me in L.A. as soon as I pop in
They come to scoop me up at LAX
drive
Nigga, you's a window shopper
Mad as fuck when you see me ride by
Niggas love me in L.A. as soon as I pop in
They come to scoop me up at LAX
drizzle, dripple, the rain breaks the silence
mainlands and islands are crippled by violence
of tyrants with guns, batons and sirens
fascists in action, sick
like pussy on my penis
Devil’s kitchen in Phoenix that’s
The heat that
I’m bringing where the shade at?
I’m LA radio and good music, boy
I don’t play
promoter, alright, just remember it's crunk night
Mc lars, in that case, I guess it won't be a problem
This popular subgenre is brought to you by
L.a. L.A. Big city of dreams
But everything in L.A. Ain't always what it seems
You might get fooled if you come from outta town
Cos we coming from
raided the dope spot, eight year old kid got shot
'Cause they mistook his BB gun for a Glock
And I ain't forgot about the homie Lano
He got killed by
raided the dope spot, eight year old kid got shot
'Cause they mistook his BB gun for a Glock
And I ain't forgot about the homie Lano
He got killed by
already spun
So lookout
Wouldn't be surprised if I grabbed the gun
And start shooting at everyone
Potential suspects
To my ultimate demise
These days
Action speaks louder than words
You can go for her heart or you can reach for what's inside of her purse
I'm just trying to find a way for my voice
at least a grand
Gold on my neck, my pistols close at hand
I'm a self-made monster of the city streets
Remotely controlled by hard hip-hop beats
But just
stalker
Words thrillin', so real they're chillin', the hit author
Gettin' louder than a shot gun, you don't want none
Rhyme pays was the name of the album
Nigella where my fellas
Still ain't taken a loss son
You eating sour black panther
La la la (Oh oh)
La la la (Oh oh)
La la la (Oh oh)
If it was do or die
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