(Verse)
|
Drive-by rap, it's all good
|
This is how wicked got fucking up with boyz in da hood
|
You forgot, I got misunderstood, I said it at a steep pace
|
? in the making like a Dr. Dre release date
|
Fate takes great mix with bullet ride
|
Full of shit, spittin', starvin' artists, this is do or die
|
You and I how to slide on a tree know to fact
|
Talkin' on the internet will neva let ya pull the sack
|
Rap game like I'm for another cap it off
|
Chess game with ya brain, call me Gasparov
|
Passed it off the legends, don't try to stop me
|
I can harbor hobby homiken(?), the laba like the Liberacci
|
Flow sloppy, show's hip-hop
|
Punch you in the neck then break the plastic off yo smash mock
|
Smash cats on the record, we the best out
|
Hit ya with da mic then give ya automatic meth mouth
|
|
(Hook: scratches)
|
I don't fuck around
|
I don't fuck around
|
|
(Verse)
|
I be swingin' at you punks on sight
|
I'm goin' Dunmer, teachin' y'all to stunt, alright?
|
Because as soon as I jump on mics, I got the whole spot
|
Bouncin' like the hidden speed bumps all night
|
But I'm fuckin' sick, I swear I'm comin' down with somethin', bitch
|
Eatin' sour cream and all the chips off of ya mother's pit
|
So check my horoscope, it says I'm rather flow than dope
|
Grab my phone charger and strangle you with the chord and choke
|
The fuckin' like outta ya.
|
Wrap you with an orion to rug and moe you off
|
At the second floor of the Fountain Blue
|
Take the elevator down and then I enter my vehicle
|
And roll yo ass of a good measure
|
Line choke, totally full of you now that my line broke
|
Who the fuck are you to tell me that I'm not a psycho?
|
|
(Hook: scratches)
|
I don't fuck around
|
I don't fuck around
|
|
-----------------
|
Three Amigos (Remix)
|
| El Gant |