| Ay my nig, is that some weed right there, my nig?
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| Let me hit that shit, man ya feel me? |
| Pass that shit
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| Naw, this ain’t weed, nigga, you know what this is
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| I don’t know what it is…
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| You see how shiny the cigarette is, nigga (hehehe)
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| Awww, that crippler dippler!
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| Roberto, let’s do it again!
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| Clear my throat, then I
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| Pull a butterfly knife out the back pocket chop it with a semi
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| Half of the body left in the closet
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| The other half in the cutlass with me
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| Wanna come back with the gonorrhea
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| Feed it to 'em, stomach empty
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| Look at her fifty stab wounds, hit her with ten
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| Droppin' the knife, then pickin' it up, then shiv her again
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| Deliver it to the meat grinder, makeshift grade weed finder
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| Dig her back up, eat the eyes up
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| Beat your wife up, keep the knife cut
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| I got decay, put it to your face, piece releasin'
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| I bury your face deep to the sea creatures' region
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| I’m knee deep in your niece’s feces
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| Right of the pee/tree (?) screamin' finger up, back from the guts, eat these
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| You can look at me, I’m three people
|
| One of em axe murderer, one of em cat burglar, other one pure evil
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| Lil' Ripgut 'bout to pick it up and then rape shit, sake shit
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| Alcohol and razor blade kit… (Let's rip it!)
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| Every single day I take a fetus with me (eat it!) x8
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| Frequent, with a black ski mask and a knife!
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| The freak hazardous type
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| Got sick habits to beat rappers, deceased afterlife
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| I’ll sneak in your pad and catch you while you sleep stab you twice
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| And with no knee pads knee pads I’ll tea bag your wife!
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| Nigga, I breathe gass in the mic
|
| No 2 Chainz, but I be in the trap with bean bags all right
|
| Did I mention G-Macc, I hope you got a beast appetite
|
| Spit at nuts and guts and chunks of human meat slabs tonight!!!
|
| I eat the beat alive, I’m a mic vulture
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| Play all my money, I carve you niggas like an ice sculpture
|
| My mind’s kinda bipolar
|
| I’m a high roller, eye swoler
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| I’ll probably stab a bitch before the night’s over
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| My flow’s dope bitch, I rhyme yola
|
| I be eatin' niggas like side orders, when I ride on 'em
|
| A scoundrel
|
| Run up in your household with a scalpel and scalp you
|
| For one hundred thousand and counting, I suicide note’cha
|
| Every single day I take a fetus with me (eat it!) x8
|
| Everybody 'bout to get chopped up
|
| Meat grinder, heat finder, we find her
|
| Puttin' her up in the cut, with a couple of razors up in her butt
|
| Ya boy be fucking it up, and there ain’t nobody that can touch
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| I ain’t lyin' nigga, I’m Kobe Bryant in the clutch
|
| Grrr, Mask and the Knife
|
| Run up in your house, nigga, and I’m slashin' your wife
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| Kidnappin' your infants, I’m rippin' shit, I get into shit
|
| Run up on 'em, gun up on 'em, I won upon 'em, sickle sick! |
| (Grr)
|
| Kill a nigga like cancer if he think about fucking with me
|
| Sticking a .50 caliber up the gut, hit the kidneys
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| Rapin' a nigga, scrapin' a nigga off the plate
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| I think my brain is off the slate
|
| (Ay nigga, ay, come here nigga) Altercate
|
| Running through niggas like Walter Payton
|
| Dead wife at the altar waiting
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| Grr, splitting the cleavage, I got the meat cleaver
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| Cuttin' em up when I eat people!
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| Every single day I take a fetus with me- (at it!) x8 |