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dizz & l.y. - villain lyrics

[intro: dizz]
mm mm mm
let’s start it like this

[verse 1: dizz]
yo’ favorite rapper trash
and he can’t f-ck with me
don’t like it? gritty breast, tough t-tty
leavin’ rappers with a g-unit scar, that’s a buck fifty
you dressed like you s-xed a guy, i don’t mean you f-cked whitley
burn your rhymes with the fuel that they g-ssed you
you type em’, then i’m blowin’ up your phone like “you past due”
got square wrote all on your clothes like a plaid suit
i leave you folded if you acute, better see my angle
i never been a thug nor an angel, my rap sheet is literally a rap sheet
so if we talkin’ bars then my stripes got me feelin’ like i’m
star-spangled
these b-tches even have ya dog mangled
my f-ckin’ team, man they’ll all bang you’
them cats wild, man they all bengals
you think not, then we all tangled
yo b-tch is tryna’ get a piece of d-ck
i tried to slide but i stuck it in instead like a visa chip
i make a girl smile, mona lisa lip
these rappers soft but act hard like a pita chip
known to beat you with the bars, now you handicapped
now he represent that blue sign, he at least a crip
my pen is the sword, with a heated tip
ready to slice through these n-ggas that you celebrate
that i h-lla’ hate, i take the game and i elevate
i’m simple as the rice, and eat the beef like a pepper steak

[chorus: dizz]
i hate to break it to ya’
but these rap game n-ggas that you tryna’ celebrate, i’m k!llin’
i’m tryna’ raise the bar that you dudes ain’t willin’
if me being real make me the bad guy, i’m a motherf-ckin’ villain
(f-ckin’ villain n-gga) yes, i be the villain
since you don’t wanna be the bad guy, guess i be the villain
(f-ckin’ villain n-gga) a motherf-ckin’ villain
i don’t care about your motherf-ckin’ feelins’
i’m just tryna’ raise the bar
i’m just tryna’ raise the bar!

[bridge: l.y.]
dizz, vish, what up doe’
do it like this, look

[verse 2: l.y.]
first things first, i spit out flames, and i doubt lames
nickel plated nine in the d, like it’s house gang
run in, leave blood in his crib, that’s a house gang
just in, they dun’ added l.y. to house gang
thinking of a way to top vish, with this hot sh-t
not hov, pac, and em, i am not k.i.s.s
i’m l, bustas say i sound hungry when i drop sh-t
reply with that westbrook face, like “b-tch, i’m not rich”
a n-gga say he got it on lock, can get his lock picked
i’m a locksmith, with the hawk in the d
josh smith, i don’t wanna hit him up, that’s a pac hit
so i give them the bottom of these sneaks, that’s a dropkick
me being the top pick will be the topic
if it’s not b-tch, i’ll take care of em’, i adopt sh-t
the game so lost without us, it’s rob thicke
what you think your life worth to a n-gga that ain’t got sh-t?
with my style, the people’s champ, i raise eyebrows
i don’t care if we was on 23, or five mile
we been caged too long, and we out now
f-ck around and end up as the one in this countdown
bang! i’m just tryna’ raise the bar
tell me what’s aladdin to jafar, h-ll naw i ain’t a star
and i ain’t payin’ n0body, i be the one that run up on yo’ car
catch a slug, n-gga

[verse 3: kid vishis]
none of you n-ggas crazy, at best you unstable
i come and slap every bum under your dumb label
i don’t know if me with a mic or a gun’s more fatal
either way, get blown away like a house of cards in a tornado
for con f-ggot feel
if everybody in your group p-ssy they should call your rap crew m-ssengill
i got that “savage, i’ll catch yo’ -ss out in traffic” feel
cut ’em or give ’em clips, you said you want the real
i’m wildin’ out, what i shoot is scary that mean
after the cannon nic you, i’m quick to ditch what i used to carry
the villain k!lla’ contender, since it’s the end of this murder he wrote
written in blood with poet penmanship
i flipped ya’ disc, it was trash, you n-ggas need jesus
a daddy, a swift kick in the -ss, etcetera etcetera
you knew the clever, don’t shoot the messenger
heckler and koch, ready and c-cked, that’s who protectin’ ya
who started you lames, i’m tryna’ see how you feel
you ready for prime when you ain’t started the game, n-gga
get slayed by the sensei of the pen play
beef with me on tuesday, i’d have ya’ head by wednesday
live from the 313
you got three d g’s on one track, that’s a three man weave
those mcs who supposed to be dope, when i approach it’s
like a ghost was seen, whoa!
no, personal guys don’t nerves converse, i’ll verse ya
i pull up, bullets will disperse, bullets will he-rs- em
we can keep it rap n-gga, i’m not really tryna’ hurt him

[outro: dizz & kid vishis]
i’m just tryna’ raise the bar
but i will

- dizz l y lyrics

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