(feat. Chris Rivers & Vinnie Paz)
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Everybody turned up, me I'm just burned up
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Sourly, piffly, flying through the district.
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My swag is in the weed bag, live up in the hotel
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Ain't got with the cheese at.
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With the bees and the seeds at
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Before back, you ease back
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But a real homie, you rise up
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Thinking before for long, cause I'mma size up.
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You're too old for the dumb shit
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You're too old for the numb shit
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Hand on the gun grip,
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The top down with the blind lid
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Flying, thinking to hundreds
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I'm in the juice game and the book game,
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But I'm still rapping, got my mass and my cook game.
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It's mid night but we're seven thirty
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We're legit, but forever dirty!
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So we've been ' old sweat suit
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Got a pocket full of 'em Benjies.
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I'm on the goons neck in them benzie
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Still feeling pain from the cocain frenzy.
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80s, 90s and 2Gs, knew I was 2G, listen to cool G!
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No gun and knife that I'm throwing a two piece
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Got me a new pair, keeps up my shoes grease
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Lines and hoes, just like a'
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Dope lines' of hoes, homie, is you asleep?
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Yeah, you better wake up and you might get it nigga
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To get a job take up thin!
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If the night don't work, throw the eight up thin
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I'm a crooked dude, but I'mma tell you straight up thin
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If you both rap but you know that the ghost rap
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Back room from the back room with the dope track.
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I'm unchained, unbounded, unparallel, unminded
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The genre refined, combined with the finest finds of Titan
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Vicious, I like it! Fuck it ' my full moon and islands
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Show what the lute that the lute of troops of oblivious'
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Devious rhyming, see me when'
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Feasting with lions and preaching the silence
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That help me sleep and read the defiance.
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Sold me for silence, my voice is hurt to' in the darkness
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I'm preaching the marches, I preach so deep, I preach to a cocky
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And spit to the spirit, guarantee to see through my lyrics
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.. the feelings that' say dream of a Phoenix
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In hopes of a birth, I'm broking the Earth when I spoke of reverse
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I wrote with compressed cold and put the diamond in the dirt
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And grew a money tree in custody of' company
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My'. is comfortably, the sharpest of the sharpest of the underlinks
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And don't compare to no one
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Verbals like a show gun, hotter than the whole sun
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Bust her like a whole gun, I'm splitting for and for'
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I know she's like a proton compared to my emotions
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.. that cures the older remedies
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Acuity is never seen
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Type of guy you never meet
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And you'll sill have me in memory.
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This gorilla rap right here, life in a box
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People raised her under the tongue the slice of the ox
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Use a body, boy, you'll be in a site full of cops
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End of freedom, I'm cool, but I'm nicer with gloves
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Listen, I ain't gonna hold you, I'm liable to box
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And roll four, five, six with the dice on your box
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I'm a still bum, move silent,'
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And while you're at the Marty Goon, say goodbye to your pops!
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My hand speed, moving 200 nods to go nuts
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The words of Gandhi... is an audible shot
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Audible plot, but this is just a hobbie to him
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Like shipping great goose, smoking Bob Merely with him.
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You don't want war, you become buddies with him
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In his house John Gandhi was just Gandhi to him
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And the East' probably him
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Probably connected to South Philly, rhyming with him!
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You're on and on' probably gin
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Looking like you got the monster remarkable thin.
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The darker the sin, the darker that the souls ever been
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I see the opposite of life, that's the story that it ends stupid!
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[Outro:]
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Stupid! Ha-ha-ha
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Chris Rivers, Benevolent ghost
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Kill a... to New York
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I'm not you, rapper!
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I'm a G!
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War Room
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| Styles P |
