No Feelings

Hook: Nigga I ain't got no feelings What the fuck you think this is? I got no reason to live So make your mind up What you wanna do? I make your family be missing you Nigga I ain't got no feelings What the fuck you think this is? I got no reason to live So make your mind up What you wanna do? I make your family be missing you Verse 1: Slop & Patacico Dustin' you off like dirty finger prints on evidence Battlin' me ya dead like presidents I'm Fresh like Prince, Jazzy like Jeff The man just like Meth Crazy like Left plus jams is like Def Wid a pen I'm king like Kurupt When I throw a style you betta duck If you don't yo ass is outta luck Don't fuck, wid the masta If I have to, the I'll blast ya Then go to church to see my pastor Why ya have to be like this Me and the mic's tight like Gladys Knight and the Pips This year my son turned six Yo style's wack and you need to get that shit fixed Representin' Jersey my raps hittin' harder than bricks [Patacico] I'm iller, realer Than ya local drug dealer Come to my villa Meet the nine milla Lettin' off Where I stop you gettin' off Make you feel it juts like Latifah's kiss in Set It Off You want war come on Put on the boxing gloves People call me an artist in the canvas Cause I draw blood That's what's up Wid the shit I manouver Hit the losers wid a Luger Than lay up in Aruba I'm gon' be rappin' till you motherfuckas get sick ah me on the mic I'm sicker than ten niggas wid HIV Tracy, had the cico, the freako Holdin' heat somewhere on Wall Sreet wid Sloppy Joe You hear me though? Hook Verse 2: Slop, Patacico & Kurupt My name is Stephen I eat MCs for no apparent reason It in you if you skeezin' I'm pleasin' Those who dare I advise you not to stare You be assed out like a flat tyre widout a spare I declare war before I had to even the score You got me hot like sand on the shore I'm runnin' the floor, like a ballerina I go back like Flava Flav in cold Medina I get honies to make you say "You seen her?" [Patacico] I'm pregnant, but only in my mind Hopin' my baby rhyme grows up to be a triple platinum album I fell on, using the steel to do crimes Smoked so many niggas they put up no smoking signs Charismatic asthmatic, ballin' like Madden Cream, automatic attractive like a magnet Speedin' like car racin' Cream like carnation Burned out my Playstation while cats be scar facin' Hey old lady, sorry's all I can say By bills got me lookin' at pocket books, in a different way Fox got the bubbled eye Benz-o I'm in the back of Kurupt flex truck playin' 64 Nintendo [Kurupt] Get peeled, skills in the fields Raw dog raw deals Niggas either ill, fake or real Penetrates I only heard ah tens and thirty eights Ride as the niggas turnin' states and flippin' crates Get lift like weights Bust and radiate spreadin' infections Murderous mafia connections I wanna feel touched like feelings Start drillin' start ampin' out Hittin' wid autos campin' out Wid autos innovative calculative creative Touched nigga, hectic, wid a couple seconds A bust nigga, from a distance I can peep a fuck up You on the Ave wid nuthin' but cash to get stuck up Man them diamonds y'all got is nice, hot Never seen cowards wid so much ice I got blocks to get all that's got behind the scenes Sellin' Glocks, tech nines, sixteens and magazines Zines, zines, zines.......