level 9
[Hook]
[Verse 3: Vince Staples]
Where is all this tough talk? Bro, you know you niggas ain't about shit
Come around, we gun 'em down, bodies pound, Auschwitz
Bulletproof outfits, weapons concealed
I'm ready to kill, so test it, all my weapons is real
Selling thizz, couldn't tell him what the recipe is
Got 'em wishing that they never gave these weapons to kids, ?
Send chills up spines of fat bitches after
Shows throwing out sandwiches, niggas get it how they
Live and I live for money, other words, I'm getting money
Little boy taught me when it's time to ride, they'll send him for me
Ain't nobody scaring me, niggas ain't prepared for heat
Tools hit like pool sticks, the way I cue shit
If this was '88, I would have signed to Ruthless
'94 would have had them walking down Death Row
First is when the best go, hate is what the rest do
Voice inside my head told me wet 'em if they test you
So it's raging water season, that yomper big as Larry Johnson
Leave your momma seedless, everybody hard
Until it's only God they seeing, kittens soft, but in they
Songs be trapping hard as Jeezy, I don't believe it
But to each his own, I ain't tripping long as I can reach the chrome
Heat your home like Southern California gas, police pass
Tell 'em free Smalls, off Palm with the heat the drawn
Strapped up long as the chief for police armed
Raised where the beasts are, north of the Beach
A couple streets past Baby Jay, bony niggas spraying Ks
Rugar with the pork face, Jewish for the court case
Here to save you niggas from the sorbet, cold chain
Like it's nothing cause it's nothing, bitch
2013年07月16日 06点07分
6