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charlie ray - cocaine lyrics

[chorus: c. ray]
yeah, we at ’em with this dope game
catch us in the trap, we cookin’ all day
i turn on the track and i feel no pain
at ’em with this spittin’
got ’em sniffing up this cocaine
yeah, we at ’em with this dope game
catch us in the trap, we cookin’ all day
i turn on the track and i feel no pain
at ’em with this spittin’
got ’em sniffing up this cocaine

[verse 1: kamikazi]
got the habit that’s highly addictive
and my penmanship says i’m restricted
selective with those that i spit with
anything less, then i guess become victims
sleep till the track smack with the bumbaclaat
take it he better come right back
they ain’t ready for the brainsick sh-t like that
till you get up in your veins when you lit like crack
underground, pap pap
you can never match the hit
on another level we master this
ain’t too many following that, they’d rather k!ll ’em to capture
i might be the villain if i could send ’em when disaster hits
with no warnin’, c.ray come look at these dudes
they strung out from cookin’ up tunes
we murder part 2’s like it’s nothin’
burn ’em up ’cause they bluffing, we looking for something to do
just might be you, peering [a cut ?], here’s a line you can do
tune up the monster, and vibe with the mood
and if you survive the night
all the hype, searching for more underground music
don’t look confused
highly explosive and you lit the fuse
made it my time and the word i pursue
i stay emotion and soak up the fruit of my labor
the flavor they savor’s the truth
time to distribute, hit all of these venues, give rappers the noose
wack rappers useless
get off this record come back with some new sh-t
cut ’em no slack and see what that produces
man, i don’t need no inst-tution, work that i’m choosin’
makes me feel i can do anything, everything into this music
here, homie, use it

[verse 2: c-mob]
you know that i get on a track and i spill guts
now roll that dolla’ bill up and feel this real stuff
then you will be addicted to the sickness of my rhymes
to another lane you will be drifted when you’re lifted off my lines
loving the high you get when you buy my sh-t
and i insist it’s daily, with the pen and the pad, i’m in the lab
this scientist is crazy, a madman [lunatic] dope in the booth [?]
running up on these rappers, skin them alive, then make a sudafed
doing it for the love of it, so hot, you’ll need an oven mitt
as soon as i give them a [?]
they sniffin’ it up and they want another hit
me and the supervillians got more keys than on accordions
collectively, we’re moving more c0ke than john delorean
with this dope game, we give them this cocaine
they doin’ more lines than if it was soul train
and different than no pain, they bobbing their head
and they love how the flow change, next minute, i’m so strange
enough of the propane
because it is a supervillain ability to be able to throw flames

[verse 3: bleezo]
hey, knock on me
catch a n-gga deeper than the tri-four deep
[?] a block flow-key
get the rock fo’ cheap
pick and c-ck-chrome heat, you did not want beef
overdosin’ with the cocaine
post up on the corner with the whole thing
watch the money grow, no low gain
got the b-tches fiendin’ for the d, call it “dope game”
quit runnin’ like yo’ wishin’ [?] on the rise
for a limited time, you can get it for the low
b-tches on my line, ’cause i’m rippin’ n-gga’s rhymes
and i get up in they mind, like a little bit of blow
[hund’ed fo’ ?]
’cause i spit the crystalline tropane alkaloid
oh, triple beam, mix it with the [?], novacane
now the ho’s can’t live without your boy
when i reach my boilin’ point, it’s a 1-8-7
problematic packer, automatic to slaughter maggots
[?] for the gunplay havin’
i see motherf-ckers
24 inch rims when i pull up in that benz, motherf-cker
goin’ hard for the ends, motherf-cker
i been out here all day, where you been motherf-cker
creepin’ like thief in the night, you can beam it in white
increasin’ your price, what you need in your life
on a devious type, take flight, leavin’ motherf-ckers sleep with the right
i’m a beast with the mic
little n-gga get the beats [?] i’mma gas it up and murk it
[?] of a blunt, ps in the trunk
love my n-gga t nutty [?] sack it up and serve it
yeah

[verse 4: king-iso]
spit, my n-gga
and that’s on [?]
ridin’ ’round the city with a red bandana
we rockin’ that ball, that’s southern montana
i can’t feel my face like juelz santana
i feel like baking soda, i be armed with the hammers
work so good, make a b-tch say “can i?”
bubblin’ like a needle with the trouble, n-gga, and i
dive into work, beard lookin’ like [santa]
i spit it h-lla wicked, n-gga let’s-let’s rock
f-cking with the brain, n-gga
might get shot
you don’t make sense like a timeless watch
n-gga, i get hot like a pyrex pot (wooh!)
n-gga, i’m the brainsick f-cking david ruffin
i’m on the stove and all you lame n-ggas is makin’ m-ffins
shave with the [?], get [?] with the work
my work so good, make you call into work
and then do a bullet, n-gga can’t f-ck wit’ me
n-gga hit me, 150, eight ball in the work
aguilera, n-gga, no christina
coca leaves got my dopamine up
you’re more like jelly
don’t go with pepsi
that coca-cola, that cocaína
f-ckin’ with a k!lla in the danger zone
keep a 9 millimeter, ready to shave yo’ dome
brain-brain m-th-f-cka, when the brain get gone
and i keep the streets tripped with no safety on
if rap don’t work, then i stay at home
when a n-gga gonna see that my fame is gone
i be bustin’ on the block all day with chrome
selling dummy, man, like krayzie bone

[verse 4: redro k!llson]

- charlie ray lyrics

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