|
We keep it hoppin' like the cars with the shocks |
|
We spittin' heat on your block |
|
We new to the game, but runnin' the spot |
|
Numbin' your knot with baselines that'll make ya neck break |
|
This rook'll take your queen and put ya king in checkmate |
|
Open your mind without makin' ya meditate |
|
We real champs, y'all just featherweight |
|
Time to get it straight, |
|
I push your wig back |
|
Crew loaded up with extra bread like a |
|
Big MacBeefin' with us? |
|
We're leavin' you face down |
|
Stompin' bitch rappers like |
|
I'm straight outta |
|
A-TownRunnin' the playground like it was a track meet |
|
Shoes on the whip that be bigger than |
|
Shaq's feet |
|
We into big things, bank account's overgrown |
|
All types of cheese, swiss, cheddar, provolone |
|
Guaranteed to burn wax like candles |
|
Track hittin' hard to the head like shots of |
|
Jack Daniels |
|
Y'all, bitch crews, don't wanna fuck with us |
|
Y'all bound to lose, another one bites the dust |
|
Y'all, bitch crews, don't wanna fuck with us |
|
Y'all bound to lose, another one bites the dust |
|
It's Trademark the truth, laid back, aloof |
|
I'm God, as if you needed some proof |
|
You ain't hard |
|
I can see it on you, |
|
I need a roof |
|
Fuck a droptop, crop if |
|
I'm creepin' on you |
|
Click-clack nickel back knickknacks if you got heaters on you |
|
Spittin' back live rounders, with five pounders |
|
If we meetin' on two, |
|
I put a beatin' on you |
|
Your sound's tired buddy, that's why |
|
I'm sleepin' on you |
|
We lean back in the ride, with cream stackin' the rawhide |
|
The sound of |
|
God slide with a raw vibe |
|
Straight military camel clothes ash brown boots |
|
So sick, I've been handlin' flows |
|
Since enamel was gold tooth and branded by low |
|
You cold fuck like |
|
Eskimo hoes at 7 below |
|
You slow, you be the last to think |
|
My hands seen more fuckin' dirt than bathroom sinks |
|
Y'all, bitch crews, don't wanna fuck with us |
|
Y'all bound to lose, another one bites the dust |
|
Y'all, bitch crews, don't wanna fuck with us |
|
Y'all bound to lose, another one bites the dust |
|
I got punks, dumps and switches, dump chumpses bitches |
|
We feed you to the sharks, you can sleep with the fishes |
|
Clean you like dishes but |
|
I ain't no busboy |
|
You ain't family, you ain't earnin' my trust boy |
|
Seen too many bitches that'll double cross ya |
|
We bring more drama than the |
|
Laker roster |
|
Get the click pissed, ain't nobody can save ya |
|
Throw heat without lookin' like |
|
Fernando Valenzuela |
|
Marc Predka's the name, the rest of you lame |
|
I'm ego drivin', seen with different women, every size and frame |
|
I refine my game by fuckin' famous bitches |
|
But it's all the same, it's just ex to the next |
|
For sex or brain, misses or |
|
MrsMarried or not, my game don't stop |
|
It's cars bars bonds and stocks you ain't see my flow |
|
Y'all are small-time suckers like a knee-high hoe |
|
Y'all, bitch crews, don't wanna fuck with us |
|
Y'all bound to lose, another one bites the dust |
|
Y'all, bitch crews, don't wanna fuck with us |
|
Y'all bound to lose, another one bites the dust |
