beretta 9 - showdown lyrics
[sirens]
[intro: beretta 9 (lord superb)]
aiyo, in the place to be
be b-e-r-e-double t-a n-i-n-e
aiyo, check it
(aiyo yo yo aiyo yo yo
lord superb up in this sh-t too)
[beretta 9]
aiyo check it
we super-precede that that, recede that
might need that, take that b-tch
won’t give it back, no, time is of the essence
rap murder fashion on parking lot cypher
when i go first, go last
when i’m aimin’ a, heatseeker projectile
missile, comin’ off all mc’s, x-file
mingle with the mangler, mic cord strangler
hangin’ with b9 is like you better hang it up b-tch
off the hitman, either dig it and dug, or get dug in
shot the club, got a snub in
dare one of ya’ll come test this
check one out opponent, and the next on my list is..
[interlude: lord superb]
n-body, it’s ‘perb, yo, yo
yo, i ain’t wanna do it to ya’ll but f-ck it, yo
[lord superb]
superb, i’m a m-th-f-ckin’ risk to rap
step in the game like, “this is rap?”
i thought this sh-t was this and that
this game ain’t jack, i’m about to go plat
this verse right here, i’m wreck this sh-t
as for the alb-m, i’mma perfect this sh-t
in a cl-ss by myself, i ain’t next to sh-t
had to get out the hood, them projects ain’t sh-t
want an 8-series benz, a lex ain’t sh-t
and my one chain truck jewelry, ya’ll necks ain’t sh-t
we could, spit it for mills or spit it for deals
when it’s over, we gon’ see who spit it for real
i battle you for your b-tch, we could battle for your moms
i kill you with a rhyme i wrote with no arms
if l.l.’s the g.o.a.t., greatest of all times
i’m the g.o.a.s., greatest on all sides
east side, west side, north side, south side
i spit murder so much, my m-th-f-ckin’ mouth wide
[beretta 9]
brought my most in my heart, kid, don’t fall victim
blood type 0, i got a rare condition
two beretta nine’s in my aim’s, so b-tchin’
lick two shots, you caught two for flinchin’
a bad m-th-f-cka, stayed in detention
a smart m-th-f-cka, this is my invention
i eat a sucka n-gg-, that’s why i stay sh-ttin’
[h-ll razah]
my level get higher every time you inchin’
[chorus 2x: h-ll razah]
crack the gray goose and roll the dutches
all my street hustlers, in the game and we ain’t puppets
n-gg-s hate it but the chicks love it
look at the -ss rubbin, we go to clubs with the gat tucked in
[h-ll razah]
when i spaz i spaz, we in the days where it’s digital cash
leave artists with no vocal chords, like a giraffe
hydro bag, mixed with morocco hash
with a mind like ramadan, i think too fast
i burn through studio booths and fiber gl-ss
slap a chick on the -ss and make her pay for the tab
get the keys, roll the weed before we hopped in the jag
ya’ll junior varsity players can’t get off the bench
hit a nza with this wrench and fulfill the suspense
one flinch, i’m on point like a barbwire fence
[chorus]
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