LYRIC
I got two gats, my fingers on the triggers and im zonin out
I’m ready to kill us all
And i aint tryna be coming back, im done with rap
Matter fact, I’ma deal my cards
And see where the fuck the camera takes me
I’m kinda pissed and its apparent lately
Your parents hate me but you wanna date me
And its a fact you know im broke and flaky, you cant break me
Actually, fuck you, pay me.
I aint doing shit for free, i cop a day fee
Shorty came raunchy, got out as ranch meat
Kinda stupid if you ask me
But she aint know the cave is the home of a fucking mad fiend
Choke her ’till she cant scream
She’s closing her eyes hoping its a bad dream
None of you bitches seen what i seen
And aint nobody tryna be in the places that i been
I’ve been to hell and came right back again
The devil couldnt cope with me, called my ass a bastard kid
Style? Precipitant. Lines? Immaculate
Deuce deuce got a fo-fo and he’s back again
Stuck in the Athens Shitty-Rens what they call us from the block to the pen
So pass a block and pen
A loaded glock and a couple knots for the gwop imma spend
Give me the gwop or repent. Give me the gwop and we’re set. Aight?
Cause I aint trying to start another scene
I’m just trying to pay the rent, smoking on that evergreen
And im higher than ive ever been
Cant sleep, like i’ve been lacing E’s with amphetamine
Quit my job now i peddle green
Its dirty money but i get it clean
And i’ma feed myself by any means
Cause i gotta eat, and i aint settlin for no greens
I need proteins, the real shit, high doses
You lift weights? Well i whoop ass. Hi posers
Test this and im leavin you comatose
It’s the son of sam, mr. no hope in hoping
.44 cal. killa from a broke kid
Gotta get the paper sonny, gotta get the doe kid
And imma get it like its show biz
Stack show money, they coming to see the dopest
And now you see me coming back again, Son Of Sam, conception was immaculate
Two Two on a killing spree, bring it back again
DJ what the fuck?! i told you to bring it back again
Aight right back to my classic shit
Cannabis got me kinda blitzed, aint no accident
Shit all over rappers at their shows, popping laxatives
And i aint gonna feature, i’ma spit on your album
Just as soon as the shit drops, you should fear what im bout son
I got razorblades, an ak, and plenty GHB
That aint no fucking rap you should go back to school for ABC’s
Before i bust one and you stay deceased
Rap criminal, so hot you can call me 80C
Burned the scene when i dropped this
Anywhere i go in any city i get props kid
And i did all of this on my own
Grabbed the microphone, then i just spit what was on my dome
And i did it way better than you
Because you empty son you need weed cheddar and booze, but you aint got it in you
You suck dick to get your shit heard
Me? i just do my thing-spit my shit and stick birds
No comments yet