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diabolic - styles for free lyrics

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ride or die, i die to ride, but got to high to drive
jumped in the driver’s side, made a six and five collide
and i survived as my own violent co-pilot
in the p-ssenger seat, blastin’ the heat while i ghost ride it
hit a tree, crash it, smash the dash’s cheap plastic
k!ll your boy and still avoid a six foot deep casket
complete savage, on the streets with e tablets
while d’s in a green caprese blasting three past it
it seems drastic, drunk in l.i.e. traffic
forced to wreak havoc, with an ounce a week weed habit
but i keep at it, chase paper with a straight razor
stumble home late night, and hate life a day later
’cause life’s a b-tch, who only treat you right when you twice as rich
but if you’re broke, she’ll cut your throat and slice your wrists
i’m might just flip, grab a big <--(?) cop by the weak spot and drag him thru three blocks while other police watch for warning, punks who grill like george forman 'till my four hors-m-n kick they second floor door in where cats record, smash the chord <--(?), sn-tch your broad and choke you with the r.c.a. jack attachment chord y'all are strapped for war, clappin' back and fourth as a last resort, i'll stab you with a plastic fork but the streets is watchin', lots of birds gots some words so while the block observes, i'mma lock his optix nerve just watch and learn, sn-tch a glock from a cop's holster shower shots over the entire pop culture i'm supposed to rap, see i knew my soul was blessed when i could hold my breath long enough to see you choke to death both hands around your throat glands for a few crumbs drunk off burbon, searchin' for stores to booze from i ain't ask for nothing, school myself to catch corruption friends who'd snipe me, and wifey p-ssing judgement i learned most, with my first toke of sherm smoke was an accident, i put a hatchet in this turncoat took cheese and blew on gear for the ???? see y'all have something to wear when you're leakin' fluid bleedin' thru it under the influence, drivin' drunk, fryin' skunk pullin' over to throw a rising punch 'till both your eyes are lump got hash and endo right here, no job or resume just half a demo and the gear i was rockin' yesterday i'm loosin' it, a lunatic who'd use a fist to abuse your chick's uterus, when i throw bows like ludacris your crew's too b-tch to fathom a magma shootin' with the intension of apprehending your platinum crucifix but knowledge is power, plus sn-tchin' wallets from cowards beats bolic at tower workin' for six dollars an hour now the game's an open stage to release a prisoner who's aiming a loaded gage at the police commisioner i took advantage, looked at a good book for answers the art of war, painting masterpieces on a crooked canvas throw a right hook and land it, beat your weak jaw with every freakin' cheek tore <--(?), screamin' he's raw on funk flex front steps, 'till he unleashes c4 that'll be nuclear winter for the eastern seaboard <--(?) my sh-t reaches each store, i play the hand i'm dealt if not i'll fill my trunk and give 'em straight to fans myself there's two dozen crews thuggin' that say that you nothin' they say that you bluffin' 'cause of the place you grew up in now you ganstas and thugs hangin' in clubs, shootin' 'em up with 22's on the truck and 100 proof in the cup controllin' blocks with c0ke and rock, holdin' glocks no you're not, prove it, shoot this patrollin' cop just load and lock the fullest clip you got then pull and cl!ck l!ck shots 'till bullets hit, if not you're full of sh-t!



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