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get gwop - chicago's finest lyrics

[verse one: iceface]
i eat like a lion, live like a heathen
heavy as an elephant, war with the meanest
move at light speed, how dare you double cross me
that will be the day i split your head like the red sea
cause i was out there robbin’
and you can ask my people who’s the original goblin
beef and get blue flame sparkin’
we on the rooftop, testin’ new glocks with marksmen
for the shorties, look, drugs ain’t cool
but for that pure white cocaine i was grateful fool
it brought my family lots of food
it copped my blue suede d’orshays like grateful shoes
gucci gl-sses, lui bags, crooks n castles
had them hoes in my hood lookin’ baffled
like d-mn he used to look like a bum
now when they see me in the streets them hoes be looking dumb
now back to the g packs and guns…
we don’t rerock the straight drop, just stack the funds

[verse two: get gwop]
i’m the best rapper just because i said so
the way i p-ss c0ke out on ya’ll that you’re bledsoe
plus i’m robbin’ rappers for their escrow
if i was worth a mil, still hop out and let the lead go
ballin’ – a hundred thousand for these ices
cartiers and rolleys fightin’ over who’s the nicest
so much crys’ you thought that we had a liquor license
and my double 4’s will leave you lifeless
i could blow you sober or puffin’ a hershey
80 on your chest like jerry rice’s jersey
hang with grimy n-ggas that will steal your goods
and could show you dead bodies like boyz n the hood
i’m talkin’ thorough n-ggas, boys in hoods
and white boy k!llers that only ride harleys
i bring more k!llers to your strip than block parties
more p-ssy than tampax, i keep the rough rider
me and my n-ggas pull all nighters like truck drivers
g wagon, rims and tires
the only wagon you push is radio flyers (repeat line)

[verse three: zack wicks]
man i’m back for the t-tle, get back, smack with the riffle
incisions split you and slice you, on point like the eiffel
live in a concrete jungle, lions dodgin’ the hunters
pit bull – no muzzle, silencer – bullets is m-ffled
caught up in the struggle but there ain’t no backing down
your back will hit the ground, fallin’ back, blackin’ out
bad b-tches walking around, -sses out
i take hit of that p-ssy and start p-ssing out
golden rapper, the magnum
the best spittin’ – that’s bar none
who can surp-ss him? it won’t happen
flow patterns beyond magic
harry houdini couldn’t get past it – toe tag it
west side like fred hampton, the black panthers
sh-t acid and p-ss cancer
i’m on fire like bombs in an amoco
military status like rambo with ammo

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