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fredro starr - dyin' 4 rap (remix) lyrics

(fredro starr):
dyin’ 4 rap, the remix saga, throwin’ shots to the top
catch you comin’ out ya bentley drop
run up, open a block, empty the glock
i’m dyin’ 4 rap, rap n-gg-s nailed to the cross
if you christ to the game, n-gg-, die for the cost
send flames out to s-5, killin’ ya porshe
took a step back from the game, watch ya flip
did a few flips, f–ked a few chicks, you can’t f–k with me
bullet to bullet baby, check the glocks
spit slugs, one after another, play “connect the shots”
c-ck the flame, had another doc to range
make ya head rest part of ya brain, like that
bulletproof rap, rap with a gun in my back
two g’s got n-gg-s still throwin’ they gats
onceyou cross to the other side, i’m bringin’ you back
i’m firestarr, and i’m dyin’ 4 rap

(capone):
to america’s system, i’m double pharoah
i speak wisdom, rebellin’ on the bc spit
my intuition on streets, keep b-tchin’
push the hottest structure, deep dishin’ stack dollars and buck
shootouts, got the hood hot as a f–k
my criminal demeanor, got snagged and tash, sizin’ me up
searchin the beamer, n-gg-s question who i run with
a vest, a tech, and extra gun clip
what you say might get your son hit
queensbridge, where my duns live
kiam was destined to rule, since my mother’s stomach
understand what i am, a prophet, poetical targets for sabatage
you can’t stop me, gorilla at large, f–k a murder charge
i spray at ya block, i spray at the cops
i’m a hater, ya wrist shinin’ and i f–kin’ spray at ya watch
i’m grimy, i’m sick of being broke, i’m sick of short sells
i’m representin’ jail murder to c-ke pots on the stoves

(norega):
them n-gg-s dyin’ 4 rap, rap dyin’ for me
you can’t see me a motherf–ka, hot as me
you see me dip through the traffic and i turn it up
them chicks takin’ ecstasy to suck my nut
straight gangsta, n-gg-s compare me to suge
but they say i’m more fouler, yeah they should
i got the “what? what” aout to fade the hood
i still got c-ke on the streets, you know i’m good
i’m from queens, infrared beams and car hard jeans
them n-gg-s dyin’ 4 rap, rap dyin’ for me

(young n-ble):
this ain’t no battle of the beats, this a battle of heat
battle in the streets, battle til we six feet deep
outlaw warrior, yeah makaveli train
n-gg-s mad how we rob, makaveli’s the blame
n-gg-s dyin’ 4 rap, i’m dyin’ to snap
life was a game of dice, n-gg-s dyin’ to cr-p
you dyin’ to ride d-ck, you dyin’ to lie stiff
frm dyin’ to bar quick, get off my d-ck
i’m like a fire starter, i wet ya car with firestarr
and garment before the cops’ll call
shot you far dawg, ain’t no runnin’ away
with ‘pac involved son, it can be done today
thug we dyin’ for the cause, burners told you outlaw
young n-b’s, stayin’ raw, and it’s wall to wall

(cuban link):
yo, i’m the spanish casanova, livin’ leathers
24 karat toke a far from marriage, in paris
we talkin’ parrots on my shoulder, hold up
the mellow holdin’ is cuban, it’s takin’ over, i thought i told ya
i’m doper than c-ke without the bakin’ soda
drunk or sober, jump out the rover, and fold you with a crowbar
throw a rop around ya neck, and do what sosa did to omar
so far, my reportoire, got respect in no parts
like joan of arc, if you turn apart, rollin’ til dark
it’s terror squad, from the start til i come across god
no hold barred, most n-gg-s got b-lls but no heart
who wanna run with the dot dada, n-gg- come holla from the bronx
where they gun down punks for one dollar

- fredro starr lyrics

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