nigga stop saying nigga, it’s getting stale like an old wives tale. guns aint for everyone, but g, i’ll be holding up the viscinity, with my obscenity, and my desert-eagle-mini-me. lyrical zen? yo a lyrical HEN! squawkin’ out yo verses, like a chip-chap-chirpin, give me something fouler to be workin’ with
open my mind? open yours! instead of just peepin’ at my lyrical flaws. just cause i’m high up on the chart, don’t mean my smack don’t come from heart. i’m rollin’ in this ill emotion, starting tricky street commotion, but on the inside, this thrill ride will take the best of my hide.
when all you do is lie
and be a shit cunt
fuck fuck fuck, nigga g, fuck. you seem to be dope fresh out of luck. stumbl’d across this 8 ball muck, now yo shit’s gonna be made to suck. i aint need no beat, but aw shit i’m stuck.
DAYUM shaun, didn’t know you could drop beats like yo air born, i coulda sworn coulda sworn, yo fresh and dope LIKE POPCORN OOOOOOOOOOO O OO OOO O OO