a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

detroit rap news - no ad libs lyrics

[intro]
(sdb, you trippin’)

[verse 1]
tellin’ $weet to harmonize, you’ll probably catch the finger
i’m a motherf+ckin’ rapper, not a singer
put a cuatro in the ‘wood, light it up and let it linger
’bout to hit the stu’, but the plug’s blowin’ up my ringer
sent that b+tch to voicemail ’cause lee’s blowin’ up my speakers
you can catch me on chalmers servin’ sh+t to tweakers
you play caught in the crib? talkin’ sh+t to squeakers
all my guns came out of kaws, so don’t get knocked out them sneakers
when i hit the beat, i spit that sh+t that y’all ain’t heard before
like, “godd+mn, i ain’t even heard that word bеfore”
i’m sh+ttin’ on the beat, y’all bums ain’t nеver dropped a t+rd before
my whole clique been gettin’ to the green like we some herbivores
they said i wouldn’t make it six months, now it’s year two
full steam ahead, i ain’t lookin’ in the rear+view
takin’ pictures with that strap, but don’t n0body fear you
you could rap a hundred years, won’t n0body f+ckin’ hear you
i blow so much crud, people think i’m jamaican
think you could speak like $weet? you’re highly mistaken
talkin’ like the pagans ’bout to bring me the bacon
ar ridin’ shotgun, that b+tch sings like clay aching
yeah, that b+tch sings like freddie mercury
i’ve been rappin’ and totin’ straps since i came out the nursery
just so you know, there ain’t no murkin’ me
i’ll take any man on like i’m hercules
if you think you’re ’bout to slide on me, then you’re cookoo
red beam on the glock, that b+tch looks like count dooku
called your girl up and then the gang runnin’ choo+choo
put the grass up her skirt, my stuffer came from honolulu
i got my hands in everything, but i don’t need no fufu
the work looks like fufu, and the fiends coppin’ buku
if you need a connect, just let me introduce you
tried to run off, i’ll have dutch master shoot you
i like all my guns, but i think i need a new one
talkin’ about crackin’ hoes, you ain’t even had a twosome (it don’t make sense, you a virgin)
starin’ extra hard, i think that you should do somethin’
big banger on my hip, i swear this b+tch’ll chew through somethin’
one thing about $weet is that i’m known to score and scrubs
i can’t even lie, y’all were born scrubs
i don’t wanna be in your crew, that’s the corn club
your girl watches my youtube page like it’s p+rnhub
you couldn’t take us one+on+one, you’d have to storm us
and even if you did, just know the strap is enormous
i’ll put a hole in your top just like a porpoise
when amg pulls up, they throw that towel in and forfeit
everything i spit is clean, but i ain’t chewin’ orbits
let me step back, give you a minute to absorb it
[verse 2]
i’ll bring the strap anywhere, i don’t care what kind of place it is
i’ll sn+tch anyone’s buffs, i don’t care whose face it is
i think he’s bothering me for a pack, so i’m lacing his
i need my pockets fluffy like gabriel iglesias
when they see me and $kid, they think it’s zach and cody
at the mackies on mack servin’ fiends to zody
made a call into danny, had him drop a bogie
big ar+15, mac long like a hoagie
there’s a big price to pay if i don’t get paid
i’ll pull up to your spot and clean it out like the maid
your ass full of cap, all you do is masquerade
i keep a torch in my pocket, don’t get crème brûléed

- detroit rap news lyrics

Random Lyrics

HOT LYRICS