ridin' wit the blower
crooked i
it's the chuck taylor trafficker that'll fuck your favorite rapper up
paint on the truck is black as something made in africa
pullin' up i'm fading half of ya
guns'll made him back it up
increases when i clap at an
actor that's fuckin' actin' up
y'all be on some beef shit
knowledge with the street shit
ancient secrets with god's signature on the leaflet
from the home of the criminals in a different dimension where generals send the sentinels
every sentence in sicko mode
every lyric sticking a sickle in your mental while the instrumental givin' your temple holes
chinchilla drippin' at shows look like i'm pimping hoes
not trippin' on no tickets sold
used to swallow bottles while gettin' more boos than the apollo crowd
i'm hidin' from liquor stores
my spit'll cut up your vocals
it's liable to split your cords
my saliva is liquid swords
my rivals'll hit the floor
classic as t la rock on vinyl
i'm climbin' in different floors
judge tried to throw the book at me
allen i. up in georgetown
it was the art of war when i took your whore down
traphouse boomin' to mars
but i'm only built for cuban cigars
you bastards should stop frontin'
i dash when the cops comin'
and when we gon' start blastin'
get harassed and pop somethin'
thinkin' the pigs might pistol my chest up
with hollow tips rippin' my flesh up
givin' giant holes to the next nigga la tesla
let 'em know i'm in the streets
sick apostle spittin' gospels over the illest beats
don't wanna hear you preach
might have to blast the pastor