Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Felony Offenders, artist - Cas MetahDate of issue: 09.11.2015
Song language: English
Felony Offenders |
| Yo Cas, who lives like this? |
| Living it large |
| Get a strong rap beat and I’m killing them bars |
| Got a long rap sheet and I’m guilty as charged |
| Got secrets I can’t keep so we giving them ours |
| I got to tell it, yell it and back it up with a mug shot |
| Dirty Harry couldn’t carry half the dangle Doug got |
| Give a Larry legendary leprechaun a jump shot |
| Never carry more than I can bury into one sock |
| My note book’s 2K and it weighed a ton |
| So me and Cas ain’t fast but we made a run |
| Right where the fader drum, dumb ditty dumb |
| Here we come, get them high, give me give me some some |
| This is point break, like a bank job |
| My ball point thanks, what a great job |
| What a great God, what a good beat |
| Rapping with a dope verse exactly how it should be |
| Uh huh uh huh uh huh |
| Verse 2 (Copywrite): |
| I pick up the state pen and write a prison sentence |
| Bars all day, got words, not Murs but a living legend |
| Will I get to Heaven? |
| That’s not even a worry |
| Christ mediates for the Father, there’s not even a jury |
| You’re album stunk from out the trunk |
| When you put out the CD we thought you put out a skunk |
| Me, Playdough and Cas Metah, track wetters |
| Fellas with mad cheddar get shredded like bad lettuce |
| We got a track fetish, we knock letters on they back when a track hit us |
| And what’s wrong with you? |
| How dare you diss us, what song you do? |
| Aside from the X-Men name a stronger crew, ugh |
| Hit you from strange angles, call me Doctor Octagon |
| Giving these emcees delivery tips, Papa Johns |
| When I rock a song you would swear Pac was on |
| A felony offender with a tendency to talk to moms |
| Verse 3 (Cas Metah): |
| This isn’t Missy Misdemeanor this is Biggie with his nine |
| Still on the streets of Brooklyn scheming to get his re-up |
| Ugh, We all sinners with some sort of addiction |
| Difference in us is I was born to admit it |
| This is more than a gimmick, meet the lords of the pen |
| You’ll get torn in a minute but we destroy and rebuild |
| Everywhere we tour, any city we in |
| People be tripping balls like we be giving them ‘cid |
| Probably ‘cause the way we dropping hit after hit |
| Got it rolling off they tongue, spit after spit |
| I came to make the crowd move crib after crib |
| Forget Twitter, come and follow Metah like the Grateful Dead |
| Yeah that sound like the name for lames I laid to rest |
| Said I’ll take you to the maker, word to Maker and Qwel |
| Peace to Jayo, C-write and Playdough |
| You ought to lay low before you taking a L |
| Uh huh uh uh |