palermo stone - premo freestyle lyrics
[intro: tip tha ill+spit]
premo
hip+hop sh+t right here
steel city, we got this
ez mac, the jukebox, fifth ave., fran
the homie j.o.b
no more talk, let’s get into it
tip tha ill+spit, uh
[verse 1: tip tha ill+spit]
pocket full of food stamps and cannabis, damage ya sh+t
give me a beat, i’ll dismantle it quick
and i’m diggin’ every fan that i get [?]
leave ’em p+ssies with the quiver and l!ck
[?] just f+ckin’ with tip tha ill+spit and i’m honorin’ it
every track, man, i honestly rip
hood champion, i’m keepin’ ’em warm
with the hand+me+down flow, man, y’all have been [?]
[?] sky through the eye of the storm
when i’m ready, i’ll fade away gracefully, check out thе form
givin’ you sh+t that’s out of the norm
gonna miss me when i’m gonе, so then i’ma k!ll every song
what’s wrong? y’all thought i was bowin’ out?
not ’til i pull the tickets from pittsburgh [?]
just stay funky like some sauerkraut
get this money what i’m ’bout
runnin’ sh+t without a doubt, gainin’ clout
need orbit, got a dirty mouth
sh+t, i’m so fly, i’m straight buggin’ out
[interlude: j.o.b.]
uh, yeah
i’m back at it, check it
[verse 2: j.o.b. & franchise]
i got my team full frontal in a leak when we go hard
bring more drama to ya plate than a soap op’
we no names two years ago
brought up from the streets playin’ beats, so we spittin’ sentence through, no
team out to match our sk!ll bread
a lotta haters shakin’ in they boots while we keepin’ a still hand
’cause we don’t fear sh+t, 412
brand+name cars, general interlude
so call it what you want, it’s whatever to me
break necks ’til they sentencin’ me
get checks, just look at my feet, got nike
i am whitey, i am bringin’ the nonsense to your progress
i uppercut the game [?] disaster
full screen more than a plasma, ha
we get chicky+chicks to go and f+ck with the team
you blue+ballin’ while we stackin’ the cream (uh+huh)
get at us (uh)
[interlude: franchise]
that’s what it is, josh, let’s do it (okay, i hear you)
uh (let me get in this sh+t though real quick), check me out, uh
[verse 3: franchise]
you know us thoroughbreds posted in the strip, loco for chips (let’s get it)
out to get it large, little snow on the wrist (uh+huh)
keep a fifty box of dutches with some potent to spliff
a little sip of cognac is what i pour in the mix
flow quick ’cause these haters out encroachin’ the spit (stay on your side)
so i just bust through the lines without showin’ the blitz (uh)
so rare how the empire give it to ’em
and i got some b+lls that can sit ’em to prison (bye+bye)
doin a fifty+to+life, so bad in the booth, i be rippin’ the mic (you know it)
’cause me and ez handle sh+t like pippen and mike
and tip tha ill+spit bring k!ll sh+t that’s endin’ your life (uh+huh)
money is motivation, so get on your j.o.b. (i see you)
i’m cakin’ lows, layin’ low where the pesos be (stackin’ right here)
from the ‘burbs to the ‘burgh, homie, they know me (yessir)
but f+ck the cheddar, we in here for the respect and the loyalty
it’s hip+hop sh+t, you can expect plenty more of these (uh)
[interlude: ez mac]
(i feel you, fran) yeah, y’all know what it is
east end empire, motherf+ckers
[verse 4: ez mac]
fran, josh, mac, tip tha ill+spit givin’ you that real sh+t
we do a track like a field trip, feel this (uh+huh)
hit the drum like a ill uppercut (uppercut)
with hoes, i get around like the wheels on the bus (wheels on the bus)
so fill up my cup with some sprite and some vodka (uh+huh)
cheese like the parmesan on top of the pasta
ya gots to hold a lot, keep ya guessin’
watermelon haze got me high in detention, uh
danny glover, mel gibson, lethal weapon (uh+huh)
karate kick a motherf+cker like tekken (like tekken)
[?] is nice, rappin’, livin’ life
the passion of the christ, this the passion of the mic (mic)
peoples pass the light so i can spark this haze
got my mind in a puzzle as i walk a maze
i could talk for days, got a way with my speech
play any beat, i’ma blaze it with heat
y’all motherf+ckers, this ain’t your spot to chill (uh+huh)
one shot, one k!ll, on the dot, for real (yeah)
this the east end, find me in the weekend
cop a qp and stay blunted ’til i’m sleepin’ (yessir)
[outro: ez mac]
chyeah, that’s the way it go down, motherf+ckers
we didn’t even try on this track, we just f+ckin’ spit
godd+mn
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