Murder To Excellence

[Intro][x3] Fresh new landers, fresh as Buchanan Ocean view, tanning, hoes over the mansion Fuck these hoes never put em over the bros Fresh new load, let's put it over the stove [Verse 1] New fo fever I put it under my clothes She run to me not cooking, she put it under her nose Latitude big, and put it under the shirt We gon need 6 homies and put him under the dirt Knee deep in the [?] depths surviving the trouble My youngins ain't just hitters, they running out of the bundles They young ready and humble, no gun ready to rumble We coming niggas, you scared? you fuckers ready to crumble? The armor all over my body, shower over you bastards It's all about guns and roses, leave flowers over your casket I'm walking over you niggas, disrespect the ambitions Die slow, let's see whose death is the quickest The hunger it never left em, youngest it never catch em Sprinkle a little soda, stretch em you got to stretch em Like gymnastics baby, young clashes baby Clay don't cover the face, let's pray the pastor save em That [?] we on the low dough They can't find us Back wyling the aisle the same time is Brain trauma if it means adding commas Seven give a nigga all six, black mamba Rhymer in the bed room, praying that our boy's safe We ain't getting money, niggas praying on your court case Praying on your downfall, ten toes down tall How the fuck they (Uf) fuck it say the fuck from round y'all Louis stewie luggage, louis buckle, new Vuitton sneaks Rolex now, audemar dem all, newest timepiece Shawty she a dime piece, treat without the makeup Almost got a nigga (Ooh) got me turning Drake up (coming home) Pour the drank up, roll the steak up Here bitch I'm cold ho, come button my makeup Running the streets savvy, stuffing my bank up Never we rest baby, never the less is more Do it like they never done it before When there's war baby, that drum hold a hundred or more So nigga fire baby, we gon fire back, nigga The tips is thick, ain't no denying that The automatic go "bratt", and the silencer "pew pew" Tell em niggas step when we shoot I'm like bitch if I got the gist before he fell off the roof On my shoulder, a heavy stock, some shit I got off the troops May the lord take him, fuck him, send him to hell I'm smelling the hate, fuck em, send him a cell When death arrive, who's next to die? Never taking him live, lyrical exercise Mother