loaded lux - freestyle on mtot lyrics
[verse: loaded lux]
say fam, ain’t it ironic how them pigs was on broham
couldn’t play that white girl, too many low, hands
back at the table, rap rookies they know my programs
make key ingredients, you can’t bake the ziti in
the pans to the left or right, faders on the speaker’s tints
i’m a lion in the grass blades, calculating zebra sprints
fangs get to seeping in, greedy and
would think i’m soul food like aretha ribs
i mean like idi it’s the general
menu full of venues
you rappers are just members of my parish, they pray at my mental temple
to make it to the shores from project floors we condensed to
while drug dealers, bubble off the poor like a pimple, it’s simple i
finally dropped by
i couldn’t wine and dine you with diner hot fries, ma tired
now let’s get out the sharp ties like why lie?
popped up on you, why lie ‘bout what the storyline is?
rewind find it’s more to find this sh+t get more defining
you ain’t born to die it’s just, weak births and defectives
they ain’t ready i am petty i will research ya’ genetics
i’m, steve urkel forgetting
didn’t i do that? but it beats working for credit, it’ll be worse with the medics
ya’ cheese smirk it get melted, he need work on his helmet
what he felt to relieve just seems to bleed worse when they held it
n+ggas are sh+llfish, and i put the squeeze on ya’, pressure heavy
‘cause you know when it come to war man we always ready
or, ready and willing, either way
it’s my word i back it up you got to let me lead the way, yeah he gon’ pay
what grandma kicking verses in the pew for? said we should pray
‘cause all us put our worships in computers, that’s y’all way
but in the end the church get all the shooters
skipped mass peeled off but wasn’t no perks in his future
we are not alike
at the same time texting different b+tches, still i got a type
i should stop at lights
and what you waiting for?
letting time cruise like katie holmes
i remember when the old brown paper bag money wasn’t trader joe’s
had to lay the mold for a stable home, it’s a dirty war not the hamper clothes
i am the cold, ma and pa got a whiz kid like amber rose
stop playing, i still talk a good game n+gga that’s jalen rose
and i rose from the junkyard of the sunk gods in the slavery holds on the sailor boats
i’m fat joe with a kick collection i be saving souls, no way to go
ghetto stories of the daily drama
water+whipping and he play the corner
he want the beamer he might trade the honda
momma baby got a baby momma
let me lay it on ya’
they’ll still squeeze on a n+gga, that eric garner
had them charges+
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