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d-lo - my own competition lyrics

[intro: d-lo]
rudeboy mafia, n-gga
bof, n-gga
free that n-gga nickel, free quill, n-gga
rest in peace one john, rest in peace fact, ayy

[verse 1: d-lo]
free that n-gga drakeo the ruler
gangland, free that n-gga jojo, where the thoolas?
i f-ck with nothin’ but shooters, chopsticks for the noodles
boy, that’s p.f. chang’s, this f-10 blow brains, ayy
lemme hit it from the back, i’m tryna dog that (i’m tryna dog that)
baby, lemme eat that p-ssy, i’m with all that
you rich, but the n-ggas ’round you broke, what you call that? (what you call that?)
i’ll take a rapper n-gga rolly, gimme all that
i be comfortable at shows, i got my stick, too
my white b-tch look like madonna with a chipped tooth
hey girl, what’s your name?
man, you lookin’ like you want d-ck, but i need some change
like what you sayin’
got the devil on my -ss, tryna shake him off (tryna shake him off)
you think you hard? catch these bullets since you randy moss
them overk!ll drills in the eastern be my little n-ggas
they be bouncin’ out, walkin’ sh-t down, tryna k!ll ’em, k!ll ’em
whole lotta gang sh-t, boy don’t get your gang hit
he slid with a k, then catch a body where your aim missed
told a b-tch that i’m a beast, better get you one of these, ayy
and if i sneeze it’ll be rainin’ .223’s, look
they can’t see me, i’m my own compet-tion, look
all these diamonds, that’s a whole lotta dippin’, huh
big sh-t, big clips, wish he would trip (wish he would trip)
we know where his mama stay, i wish he would snitch

[chorus: d-lo]
(ayy-ayy-ayy, what the hook gon’ be?)
i don’t need no f-ckin’ hook on this beat
all i need is a thirty in my glock now, get him knocked down
now it’s h-lla f-ckin’ cops round
had to double-back, ’cause he ain’t die but now he knocked down, ayy
hand-god, n-gga
and, nah, you ain’t no k!lla, but sh-t, at least you tried, n-gga
young n-gga, be really ready to slide n-ggas, ayy

[verse 2: sleepy & d-lo]
(ayy, sleep, why you be trippin’, n-gga?)
’cause these n-ggas hoes for real
i don’t be gettin’ n-ggas
i’ma use a big -ss chopper and go and hit them n-ggas, yeah
you can perp how you pimpin’, but you be simpin’ n-gga, on the real
only my brother, bree, and god know how i feel (how i feel)
runnin’ up a check and that’s with or without a deal (with or without a deal)
these b-tches wouldn’t be that tough, b-tch, without a pill (without a pill)
i was a teen at my mama house payin’ bills (bills)
(wh-wh-what’s the meanin’ of a body, sleep?)
oh, that’s when a n-gga like me out playin’ hide-and-seek
that just mean i made up my mind and it was time to creep
lookin’ for a stamp in your section or where your potnas be
now i see ’em (now i see ’em)
sh-t, we all wouldn’t wanna be ’em
if i stop his breathin’, that’s a body, and i got a reason
ain’t no treason, sh-t, we all know it’s funkin’ season
checkmate, he outta there when my doper’s squeezin’
sleep

- d lo lyrics

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