slaughterhouse - cosmic kev freestyle lyrics
[verse 1: royce the 5’9″]
baby i’m lawless, you couldn’t burn me if you threw acid on me
i’m at you homie, i’m at your home ready to spray you while you nappin’ homie
have everything on and around your mattress lookin’ like the word in front of a matrimony
you high, thug yeah go ‘head jump, no matter how high you get
you gon’ come up short like spud webb
my dui’s get waved like saying bye
still ridin’ with no l’s like james todd
can’t change i thank god for my safe thinking
last time i was safe thinking, me and my n-ggas was doin’ a bank job
i stay violent, y’all go to the peace route
you got a mouth like kanye, i’ll knock your whole bottom row of t–th out
no disrespect to mr. west, i’m just nice with mine
and this just rap, i’m like ricky hatton, i just like the line
these weak rappers wanna set us up, they never tough
they ask me for a hook, i tell ’em left or right, head or gut
what y’all messin’ with is a n-gga that’ll leave you fubar
f-cked up beyond all recognition
y’all are rock stars, i’m the opposite
i could just throw a rock and hit a star for the f-ck of it
partner, you’re not hard, i body your hot bars
beef is left you pray, right like allahu akbar
let’s go, when i leave y’all shot, you ain’t gon’ be on your metro
in a bad area that call dropped
[verse 2:crooked i]
aiyo, never going broke again, picture me poor
i walk in the jewelry shop, draw glocks, empty the store
crooked’s a man-eating lion please don’t tempt me to roar
ghetto enough to put hydraulics on a bentley azure
pimp me a wh0r-, tough talk i simply ignore
thousand dollar automatic weapons defend me in war
i rock a stocking cap in case
i gotta pull it right over my well-known face and strong-arm the whole place
its k!ller cal styzz-al, where crimi-nals prowl
my residu-als pizz-ile, my lyri-cal style
make them dudes sound goofy ?
it’s like you telling a statue to flinch, my n-gga your words don’t move me
they make want to trip with this gauge
and i was born with bars, mom shoulda named me nicholas cage
you get no action, i beats mo’ -ss than joe jackson
i tote magnums even if i go fo’ platinums
i blast that enyce shirt, i’ll make your b-tch drop her dk skirt
cuz that’s how n-ggas in southern ca work
i stay swift, walk with my chest out like an ese on may fifth
i’ll tell you you ain’t sh-t
and gangsta rap ain’t dead, it never died
it took steroids to the head and became crooked i
on the “book placed by the gideons”
we can feud like cowboys and indians
or israelis and palestinians
i didn’t wanna resort to this
but my cerebral cortex is a fortress where metaphors exist
hit you with the force of morpheus after i transform my fist
to a hammer too heavy for thor to lift
through a course of metamorphosis
‘cos this dude is more than sick
sicker than newborn p-rn, swinging on some george foreman sh-t
warn your clique i pop cowards nine millimeters of glock power
i drop trousers, do your girl in a hot shower, for a hot hour
drop her off at the watts towers, the block’s ours
you stoping us it’s not now or never
i’ll never let these snake n-ggas take me
i blow out brains to entertain me when i’m angry
i don’t tangle, i choke, strangle, break both ankles
dangle you from a rope, clothes hang you from a cold angle
the mangler so anxious to k!ll, able to spill
ancient languages dangerous as 80 paink!lling pills
young jacker, gucci hat tilted, gun clapper
i’m every artist resting in peace in one rapper
chrome ending your life
strong enough to stab you with the wrong end of a knife –
gangsta type
and i wasn’t supposed to be here, microphone holding
my father didn’t want me but i broke through his trojan…
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