a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

prince ea – real death of autotune lyrics

i’m on my soulja boy sh-t, but a lot sicker
i tell ya girl, “kiss me through the phone, baby,” i put a bomb in it
time ticking, i’m locking the doors
don’t go to the closet, i already got your mom in there, tied to the floor
my girl wants me to be more positive
it’s not gonna happen, a positive rapper
what i gotta be positive for?
i pay homage to gang violence
ride around with a fake license
picking up chicks and giving them the aids virus
i make my way but day by day, it’s the same problems
somebody tell asher f-cking roth, i hate college
yesterday charles hamilton asked me to play sonic
i strangled him with the sega genesis cord till he was unconscious
thank god most of these n-ggas spittin’ are terrible
cause i ain’t even that good, i’m just good by comparison
i ain’t wrote a rhyme in 5 years, i’m still relevant
5 years and your rhyme sk!lls are still embarr-ssing
learn from the nephilim
i don’t sh-t on rappers
my stomach acid dissolves ’em before they turn to excrement
its rhetoric, it’s sicker than a pestilence
i’m sicker than a chick dancing in the club, 9 months pregnant
i’m sick enough to make you start barfing on your man
sh-t i’m sicker than farting in your hand, and smelling it
it’s incredible these whack n-gga’s that be rapping, b
n0body with talent and no originality
everybody’s talking about swag, and that’s sad to me
cos i had swag when they called it personality
they heard my tracks and they gotta search for strategies
i’m sounding like lamont coleman or early c-ssidy
he got the total package but, why he ain’t battling?
let me say this emphatically
number 1, ain’t no individual n-gga on this earth worth a rap from me
number 2, battling that ain’t my niche dog
i respect them n-gga’s they be spitting them sick bars
but you really think murda mook is making a hit song?
get lost, them n-gga’s run into a brick wall
you think they gonna pop, but nah they don’t even discharge
it’s been hard i’ve been trying to make it
but now i’m finally famous, yeah big up to big sean
but i’m still picking up them crumbs
still waiting for the gold rush to come
still broke, what a bum
they say i’m sick as f-ck
cos man i’m sick enough, to finger f-ck your girl with a joe budden thumb
low budget sc-m, i ain’t got no effing cl-ss
my only reason for rapping, is to get you mad
and i ain’t gonna let you p-ss
the kind of guy to f-ck drake’s girl and tell her she the best i ever had
i’m in your crib rocking the same mask that freddy has
how you gonna use auto tune, when your neck is slashed
the best player don’t check his stats
he just goes in to k!ll them in the first and the second half
i knock down them shots that you afraid to take
its as plain as day, no rapper can contain him, he’s dangerous
so the only way that you can play him straight
you gotta get jay back down to his playing weight
my flow is something like a rafer play
sometime i gotta smack these n-gga’s in they heads til’ it shake they face
and everyone saying i’m making cake
now that’s funny i got about as much money as my label mates
i’m unsigned but f-ck a deal
i want rap city in the bas-m-nt back, homie
f-ck the deal, i don’t even want a deal
cos these n-gga’s that want a deal
they try to play ya, get ya f-cked for a couple mil
they try to rape ya, aha
my pops sat me down and told me, richard
never tip the waiter before a meal
and that’s on the real, i don’t trust you suckers still
i’m on my own grind now, i keep that duffel filled
prince ea love the kids, like a father do
but this is more than love, this is child abuse
homie i wouldn’t lie to you
but you a funny -ss example of what not to do, like rocking a chopper suit
this sh-t is comical, until i let that weapon spark
the mac will sizzle whats black and little, like kevin hart
kalashnikov 47 rip your chest apart
tie you to these decent clowns screaming “i don’t check the charts”
i don’t how much you sold or if your crew is signed
this is 300, numbers mean nothing its do or die
a lot of n-gga’s gonna lose they minds
because it’s simple i don’t wanna end careers, i wanna ruin lives
and i don’t want to k!ll you, i want you to choose to die
and since you f-ggots like to blog that’ll suit you fine
you could be the first person in the f-cking world to twitter they own suicide

- prince ea lyrics

Random Lyrics

HOT LYRICS