Zip Em Up

[Verse 1: Grafh] Gudda Yeah (boom boom boom) Yeah (I wanna set..) Yeah (boom boom boom), Yeah Huh, I'm live screaming from the underground Get up under your skin 'til I push the blood around I'm at your baby momma crib pushin your son around If the world was mine I'd be pushin the sun around Gold dust in this chain, let it twinkle It look bright in the light when I let it sprinkle This is not rap money, thats why its crooked and wrinkled Cause I was pushin my work instead of pushin my single This is raw, so holla at me if you need it cheaper I speak crack, holla at me if you need a feature This that sizzurp, nigga who need a leader My car foreign, my engine need a visa The nickel millimeter trigger need a fever (hot..) The refer that I deliver need a speaker Loud, hot copper, top shotta I punch niggas in their snort locker (wadup?!..) [Hook: Grafh] We in this thang We in it good We out shit out We in the hood Them boys hunt They in the woods That red dot on your head, that ain't good, zip em up Put em on their ass now, zip em up Feel em with Tabasco, zip em up Bring another toe tag, zip em up Bring another body bag, zip em up Body Bag em, I zip em up (x4) [Verse 2: Styles P] Grafh Wadup I'll zip em up.. Ghost Body bag, DOA ADHD nigga letting the heater spray Coo coo, no clock The four pound then the Glock'll make the show stop Put a bullet in your bitch like Botox Before you get robbed, get gun butted and throat chopped Wolves here Alpha male rep for the G niggas inside and out of jail [?] on ..and .. [?] on King Pin jeans when niggas had their Levis on Body bag, toe tag Mirk em and forget about em, end of the smoke bag I'll rip em up, knock em out, pick em up I'll stick em up, clip em up, hit em up Body bag, niggas better zip em up Ghost put em down, bet you can't pick em up [Hook: Grafh] [Verse 3: Loaded Lux] Vital lines that'll pleasant doctors The shots I throw hot as Russian vodkas Its hard to withhold they came cold and stuffed in lockers My art gothics in the age of forgotten logic Getting these pockets high as white chicks scary flick octaves I'm fine vintage, the life is just dying with us Mind wicked, a few thoughts will kill a nigga wit nine endings My kind ended off with the loss of John Lennon When human minds didn't recognize the reflection was God's image Life vengeance for vengeance, get your hinges kicked in shin Then go up top to the chin Thats how we get it in, when your doors rushed Another screw ball's clutched in my vice grip And the wrong turn to get your life stripped Sit tight, listen to dawg on it with God on it This knife split whatever fall on it, I'm for-warning This how killers hunt, my style's draft out, you witness Lux Might call K-Shine to zip you up! [Hook: Grafh]