Tekst piosenki
Intro: Y'all and all better get right That this time, while the time is good Cuz they might not be no next time Just creep, just creep Just creep, just creep [Royal Flush] Yea my life is like a horror flick But this movie guns and bricks, with tons of chicks Ice on my neck and wrist And run with a click, keep my two guns on my hip And swingin' I spit, fighting was the '85 shit Rims on my whip, Dreamcastin' ahead of my shit Bitches know I'm rich Look at they husbands and wanna switch Follow my dick, tell they kids "Daddy ain't shit" Cut ya finger off and mail it back like Mark did to Rich I body a snitch, Bumpy Johnson of this crack shit Feds couldn't tap this, Vietnam couldn't match this It's murder, even when I fuck I hold a burner Now think about, when I'm out of town a bodies heard of I'm a grown man, I ain't mad you don't understand I produce fire, ever since 12 started riot Gold Ferrali tires, bandana bike riders No slugs and outsiders, jail cell for the lifers And ask ya dumb niggas a question Who's the nicest? Chorus: Royal Flush We creep, when we roll thru the streets, we creep When we walk around with heat, we creep Smash box in the jeep, we creep [J-Mel] Let's keep the air tight, pluggin these mics, it's rhyme fight Me and my fam A-Alike like to clap on sight Devious, mischevous, eye for an eye Infamous and reppin this, who wanna fuck with this guy Know we all talk live, and I'm certified wild A Queens professional, niggas check the profile 6 foot, 210, won't hesitate to get down My desert spit round, quicker than shell hit ground Need some help down, play ground, this shit ain't a game Try to maintain, spittin bars, outta the flames And you know I do my things, stay one with the heat On point, with my hood, keep my ear to the streets And all these bitches love me, don't give a fuck about beef Ounce of reefer for the weak, lay back on the seat What you see is what you get, don't talk, represent Never play bent, stay on my toes and make sense Niggas no name like Prince, and claimin they run shit J-Mel, done shit to get ya throat to wrist Chorus 2X [last line added: When we fuckin wit a freak, we creep] [151-Ron Bacardi] Yo, I stay to myself, conscience everyday with my health Since it's not a game, eyeballers play for the wealth Kids get they ass whipped, when I'm unlacin my belt You must respect my rhymes, cuz I say what I fealt Master my words, like when I'm lightin passin the herb Crashin you herb, 5 Mic put my fashion desert Clarks & King, it's a prejudice Bacardi thing Recognize you a rat, when ya start to sing Snitchin on hustlers, they flappin they lips on the brother They not even worth hittin God, we spit on them suckas Buggin my nerve, blame it on the drugs without slurp My slang not gay, niggas can't fuck with my word My poetry silk, defeat who's suppose to be ill Vocals be real, I pulled ya card and told you the deal [Rah Bump] But now it's R.A.H. Diggler, the pussy tickler The one shot surrender, flip twist the bender The king of this "creep" shit, it be no secret Cuz me fluss and J-Mel fluss mill's frequent And spend it but stay bent with a clip For these loose lips who sink ships and wanna talk shit These niggas kill me, ya cats better feel me Those stupid ass ways, get three holes like some looseleaf You want beef? It's useless, clip be nine ruthless I kill slow like lugers, head on project roofes I be the newest with the same cat that do this The same nigga that told it the lugers and hit ya troopers And jetted in the Suzus, niggas you wanna do who? I clap two-two's since '82, then hit ya tissues You talk about that crack, But I been sellin that Since the days of wayback, I flip the stack and got my dough back Warrants down in VA, clackin dough but one day We slave for the pay, that's how we do it baby That's how I creep Chorus 4X
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