Cassidy - Whoa 2K10 Freestyle - Tekst piosenki, lyrics - teksciki.pl

Whoa 2K10 Freestyle

Cassidy

Apply The Pressure

77

Rap

Tekst piosenki
[Verse 1: Cassidy] First of all you're not hard You're a bitch You're too emotional You're my son? I should Maury Povich you How old are you? I'm a bad dad, i ain't mean to cold shoulder you But damn man a magnum ain't do what they say Trojans do I'm hot, I'm not as cold as you I'm exposing you I know you're not really a killer It's all promotional Larsiny taking it over, its not negotiable But don't be mad at me cause I'm dope and not as broke as you Im a thinker, im a drinker and im a smoker too I tell a chick a joke or two, that make her screw most the crew Cass get more ass than most sofas do I get face like proactive repair lotion do My fans feenin' like smokers do They need me to come back out and put some more crack out I was sick of taking a rat route But im feeling better got my business together im about to black out You might of pull the gatt out but who cares You scared like a rat trapped in a cat house You scared like a cat trapped in a dog house My dogs in your house wearing masks with AR's out Fuck what you all about My homies started trial a day I'm really in the street You niggas sweet like Alize Eh, shorty i made 40 thousand a day My bedroom and my kitchen a quarter mile away And they say its a new style today That tight clothes style is gay Fuck what a stylist say I made more money than more with it I get it my account balance got more digits But im the wrong one to come rob You a square like sponge-bob I carry shells like the boss squid-ward get it? So when you see me nigga try something And get smacked like Mary J. Blige husband [Verse 2: Chubby Jag] Look, i told cass i need extra cash I can't wait i need it extra fast Got me watching who around me Quick to let the heckler blast Cause niggas fucking they own fam like precious' dad Whoa, should have told them from the door man You dead if I'm coming for that bread , like bruhman Show up at your door, arms up 4-4 blam [?] Stand and clap rims, i don't back down for no man You looking at the drough-man, a snowman , i move ki's Im so fly, its no lie I'm the truth please Think you gon' stick me, rob me, recoup ki's 'til we make it rain in your house, like the roof sneeze Yeah you going to be Reggie Bush, and im Drew Breeze Niggas keep talking that bullshit, like two three You know me nigga, i expose beats nigga Im all about green like grove street nigga No i don't need a jet, or Bugatti But a tech and a new shotty and a net So i can catch me a new body Moms told me to fetch me a new hobbies I went to cockblock, then i went to drop top the new [?] Every mic i touch got shit stains on it Yellow things in them chains like piss stains on it Nigga we don't add up You boring , you trippin' Im soaring you slipping Im Jordan you Pipen Do the math you sick, im into getting cheese Im Kobe you Vick, I'm in a different league, read me? In other words i ain't gon' stand to let you jab and hook me You guys sweet, im Tyreke i ain't your average rookie Two seater, skinny nigga jag Shall be banging broads, that the skinny niggas had Dress baggy but, i ain't in my skinny nigga bag Try me nigga, ill smack any niggas ass No homo, JAG
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