| Verse 1: Awon
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| This is for the bandoleros up in the bandos
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| Greening shots, that golden state I’m Steph Curry with the handles
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| Fuck it, they gonna have to sue me for the samples
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| I’m Charles Barkley and M.J., the way I gamble
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| Every verse is a statement, I never ramble
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| Line up the heads of MC’s on my mantle
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| When I’m on the mic, keep it lit like a candle
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| Like when I spark the lye wit' a strain you can’t handle
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| Listenin' to oldies, I be digging for the loops
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| Rakes, chops, and shit BluntOne who produce
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| Blend it like a ninja, now her pimp got the juice
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| Grooves got the girlies loose, pockets fat like Bruce Bruce
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| Shoppin' for new coupes, panoramic new roofs
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| Wallies and Chartreuse sippin on a d’usse-d'usse
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| A butt like platinum spittin' acid over bass
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| Hook: Awon
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| The result, is eruption, this flow is outer space
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| This that Sun Ra n' George Clinton funk
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| Afro-future, machine gun rap
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| And for them hoes Karma Sutra
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| The antidote, crush yo' cantaloupe
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| The antithesis
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| When my freestyle soundin' better than yo' written shit
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| Flow ridiculous, rock a crown for my penmanship
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| Player’s Club membership
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| Born a straight nemesis
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| The government’s my third eye, got me on some other shit
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| I stay on the run, eatin' underground n' lovin' it
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| Verse 2: Awon
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| Who the fuck is this? |
| Tellin' me that I ain’t the shit
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| They maybe need a decongestant
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| Because my presence is the essence of everything refreshin'
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| Better watch who you testin' or a shot, is yo' lesson
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| Yo' thots, stay finessin' wit' a smile on her face
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| That bitch backstabbin', that’s why you caught a case
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| It’s 2000-somethin' who still smoking mace?
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| Why front, if you fake? |
| Most yo' big, homies jake-
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| Niggas who, got weight, never talk it
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| Flashy cats be the target of narcotics and woos often
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| Keep talkin' that bullshit, and see coffins
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| Pine, oak and cedar, dirt naps, you can’t see the
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| Prominence, hail to dominant
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| Ain’t nobody fuckin' with me or my conglamerance
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| This is politics a chest aimed
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| Don’t let em' Get you gassed like methane
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| See how their tek ain'
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| Bringing you that med pain
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| Hook: Awon
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| That Sun Ra n' George Clinton funk
|
| Afro-future, machine gun rap
|
| And for them hoes Karma Sutra
|
| The antidote, crush yo' cantaloupe
|
| The antithesis
|
| When my freestyle soundin' better than yo' written shit
|
| Flow ridiculous, rock a crown for my penmanship
|
| Player’s Club membership
|
| Born a straight nemesis
|
| The government’s my third eye, got me on some other shit
|
| I stay on the run, eatin' underground n' lovin' it |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Machinegun Rap , by - BluntOneSong from the album Orbiting Rawbits, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп