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kidddalegend - tried lyrics

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(00:11)
i’ll be that only brotha runnin’ for office/
after i gun down my opponents/
they lookin’ for my weakness/
but can’t find exposed components/
tell the runner-ups i send my condolences/
shove dirt in the face of defeat when i’m focused/
there isn’t a rapper today to me that sounds potent/
so none of you mothaf-ckas are important/
i’m omnipotent and omniscient of all my foes/
and i do dirt with the king of the underworld/
mush them faces into defeat of mine/
because these feet of mine are trampling every line/
stand in line, get in line, get positioned to be on-time/
that’s westside/
murder and rhythm play a role cuz i’m the playwright/
finish him like a death move, hand-to-hand, no play fight/
stay right but steer left/
be down but stay up/
get the criss but don’t come cross, the diagonal step/
gold runs in my blood from the pharaohs, word to king tut/
tried by 12, and died by one, punch to the gut/
biblical intercourse, like holy f-ck/
feelin’ green for that money, no milwaukee bucks/
it’s bad that you suck like oral s-x/
it’s even worse that you copped a feel for some pecs/
so what’s next, you wanna be the best?/
i tell you it’s a different mark for the same quest/
unbearable, lyrical, cynical, admirable, pinnacle, pentagon/
dinner’s on, physically in trembles/
avon sh-llin’ out more than pimples/
or do i mean clearisil?/
scr-ped from the top, watch me clear the ceil-ing/
skin peel-ing, that sh-t needs some action/
i’m all for play60, gonna need to be more pro-active/
see what happened? the michelin man won’t be so happy/
fingers touched on the surface, white gold crust from pappy/
mason, i’m back and staging a criminal affirmation/
who’s back is against the wall of ’em all while i’m steady racin’?/
fettucini, linguini, pasta, lasagna, spaghetti; extra cheesy/
pretty greasy, feelin’ easy but too queasy/
nicki without the scottie, then they can’t beam me/
silk pockets, pen is a rocket, shootin’ down dow stocks and/
runnin’ amuck in the cut, with a beautiful tux/
plaid tie too, i might move to the bay soon/
i stay cool like a horror game playthrough/
shots outta the dark, guess who wants to play by two?/
i’m a multi-player, i play a mult-tude through cake routes/
what you call an easy bop, might be something you can’t escape from/
they can’t understand or comprehend the kidd/
they wanna chase a brotha down and apprehend the kidd/
i’m sick, still/ meaning i’m coughing up your guts and blood i had as a meal/
pax ceremony every year/
arcade pennies for the expo, play me dead & square/
i know what you fear, the possibility of you runnin’ out of style/
tagalong with mgk, he ain’t the only boy that’s wild/
now lace up, get ya cake up, tell your mind to wake-up/
prosthetic p-ssies, y’all ain’t nothin’ but fake f-cks/
say what?/ get hit from a barrel as long as my last name/
abdul-ha–(blao!)/ disintegrate your whole frame/
oh mane, i don’t need gucci as a mention/
let me get that juice man, without the oj in it/
sun as bright as a jaguar, it darkens the godly pigment/
synonyms filled with metaphors, but it’s only a figment/
of imagination; burnin’ rubber like drag-racing/
you can bow wow all you want, i don’t give a shad baby/
the boy mad crazy/ i feel like radric davis/
i’m always in trouble for kickin’ em while i’m on the move lately/
or talkin’ like i’m sort of outta my mind, but quite shady/
lyrically, you ain’t touchin’ me n-gga, so stand still like gravy/
the minute you move, it’s over for you then you start fading/
bars over the populace/ y’all want popular demand and all that/
i’m lookin’ for bars on-demand like it’s comcast/
i drink from your girl’s -ss every minute, my own flask/
you a chump that likes dirty b-tt, ya punk -ss/
you fail at gettin’ booty at all, ya flunk -ss/
you see i drum p-ss fast in the ocean/
like a rowboat with chicken bones for paddles on it/



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