Tekst piosenki
[Verse One: Kulprit D] Kulprit going off the top of his head. Got in on lock like a dread The flow's colder than the bottom of a sled When I stepped in the building, all hail, code red. Hope you're listening to the words that are said Cause I'm hotter than 1,000 suns Come down hard on ya like a thousand tons And you're so out-dated-1981 And I got more ammunition in one line than your Front line probably got within one thousand guns. Trying to get with my crew? I ain't with it Go find yourself another puppet of the big business Ya'll pussies get together like some lesbos getting scissored. Rapping white boys and it's looking like a blizzard. Red Rover, Red Rover, send Kulprit over From Nashville to 405 so he can take it over And control these other rappers thinking that they're colder With my flow and this my poker face and you just need to fold Mainstreams niggas fake but their orgasms are real But all the undiscovereds, we know the deal About how down here the situation's flipped around- Homies are genuine and girls are like, "Um, are you finished now?" But you called me animal so I had to give you my rabies! But don't show up nine months later like, "Uh, here go your baby!" It's obvious I'm not new to this Tickle my own funny bone. Damn, I find this humorous I'm sort of what the epitome of the game is. I speak the truth so we don't speak the same language Kulprit coming in and pointing out who the lames is! Smart on the mic like I went to Cambridge. I went to fast. Somebody DVR rewind it! I lost my mind I hope somebody can find it Put in my brain, click play, resume I feel bad for other rappers cause they were presumed dead I'm a lyrical killer, a lyrical thriller I push the envelope, whether it's white or whether it's manila. You know the deal ugh! I come to steal the show I'm sick of rappers having no emotion in their flow Yeah, they talk about the stacks of cash money I don't care if you got more racks than a thousand Playboy bunnies. Quick with the punchlines. I don't hesitate Drop a mixtape like Michael J. Fox would drop a Shake Weight. People listening are like, "Damn, wow." I'm done, son. slap that BET logo on it now. [Verse Two: Bru Swain] "M" to the "I" to the "K" to the "E" Bru Swain AKA Mike Hembree Coming on the motherf***er hotter than ever 'Bout to kill this s*** and leave it on a stretcher Bout to beat the beat up and leave it black and blue You better learn your lesson like you were in school Pussy dudes hating but there's nothing they can do Smoking weed and stealing girls is just what I do I'm on my s*** and I ain't about to stop I'm doing it like I'm running from the cops Got a whip full of girls and they all down to pop. Riding through the dirt roads, smoking on some crops. We all repping the 405 Down in the Gut where we get s*** live Wouldn't f*** with us,man. Wouldn't even try I'd say ask the last dude but he died . . .Just kidding [Verse Three: Zoomie] Can't turn ya head away when your here what I got to say Opposition scratching they head. Like how we dominate? I'm steps ahead of your moves in games you're trying to play I wasn't trying to be rude, just wasn't trying to wait Get food before fourth meal looking at my plate I'm just 155 playing heavyweight. I carry heavy weight. And it ever gets to heavy I just levitate To my niggas that are gone-a Swisher everyday Swap the goods for Mary J. It's takes the stress away Mama told me, "in this world, you're either blessed or paid." Niggas kill for dollars. but quarters make the weapons spray Now, bow your heads and let us pray
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