| The devil is a motherfuckin' liar
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| Straight kill 'em
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| Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
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| Here we come though
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| Took his order, then I served his quarter like five nickels
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| Man, I’ll stay on point like icicle
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| Niggas can’t decode, or figure my rhyme riddles
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| Took my money to the source, and said «Fuck the man in the middle»
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| Talkin' hard, soft, heroin, green, that’s what we had boy
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| Erica was the bag lady, I was the bag boy
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| Option was that minimum wage, live in a cage
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| Buildin' a prison everyday, man they cultivatin' these slaves
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| In this new age, dude’s wage is fugaz'
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| I’m the whole gallon and half pint like School Daze
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| I been killin' 'em, since Kool Moe Dee, Ra', Kool, 'Face
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| Zero dollars, zero tolerance, lettin' that tool bang, nigga
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| Yeah, nigga
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| And if the devil die today, I’mma treat it like it’s a holiday
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| Bout the Michael Jackson, beat it, I mean it, I got a powder day
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| And nothin' funny, but I play with the money like it’s Monopoly
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| And if the devil die today, I’mma treat it like it’s a holiday
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| I used to lay in bed, starin' at the ceilin' fan
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| Feelin' cramps, wishin' I could get a killer gram
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| Tryna understand, why I wanna kill a man
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| With high hopes like rubber tree, plants, and ants
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| We cheat death, with each breath, the only one who make —
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| It last forever is Keith Sweat, you ever see a —
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| Body lyin' dead, in the streets yet, then eat breakfast?
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| Swallow forced beliefs like police justice
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| If my city is like yours, then cereal scratch
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| Fingerprints is wiped off, if people seem to —
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| Always have somethin' to fight for, but still end up —
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| In the state pen, or the psych ward — It’s lights off
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| They catch so many casualties; |
| it’s like war
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| That’s the reason, I don’t believe in the hype, y’all
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| The devil talkin' bout, he wanna extradite y’all
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| Now I’m the nigga, He shinin' the search light for
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| Yeah, nigga
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| And if the devil die today, I’mma treat it like it’s a holiday
|
| Bout the Michael Jackson, beat it, I mean it, I got a powder day
|
| And nothin' funny, but I play with the money like it’s Monopoly
|
| And if the devil die today, I’mma treat it like it’s a holiday
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| Here we come now, here we come now
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| Yeah, freestyle nigga
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| Homie showed me a 9 milli, and 9 nickel
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| Man, I’ll stay on point like icicle
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| Say you got that yola, your fishscale lookin' fickle
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| They like Jordans out of the gas station, they ain’t official
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| I got thousand dollar jeans, on my ass cheek
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| Cousin got her lights, and her gas cut last week
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| How that make me look, if I don’t help her get up on her feet?
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| She keep a different nigga, now she in there, pregnant every week
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| I pray you, take these devils out our life, lord — That’s our vice, lord
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| Baby momma’s come with the drama, made her my wife lord
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| Know I’m doing, no hope you see I’m trying to do right, lord
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| Shake 'em up and blowin' the dice, I pray the price, lord, lord
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| Yeah, nigga
|
| And if the devil die today, I’mma treat it like it’s a holiday
|
| 'Bout the Michael Jackson, beat it, I mean it, I got a powder day
|
| And nothin' funny, but I play with the money like it’s Monopoly
|
| Yeah, yeah, and if the devil die today, I’mma treat it like it’s a holiday
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| Yo, my memoirs are like the Anarchist’s Cookbook
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| Meets the Tom Ford spring/summer look book
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| Some people wanna see me hanging from a good hook
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| Instead I hang with a language and slang in —
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| The anguish, and pain fit as well, cause it came with us
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| After all these years, carrying this shame with us
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| Now the entire planet, is going insane with us
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| Seven year old kids, carrying flame spitters
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| Fortified fences, mortify senses
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| Crossfire, miss my little daughter, by inches
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| Chemical dependence, medical expenses
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| But no amount of money on earth, can buy vengeance
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| Writing a life sentence, sirens, fire engines
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| Tyrants, seen through the eyes, of the wide lenses
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| Senseless crimes, cause some of us want to drive Benzes
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| But are you tryna ride with us, or against us?
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| As long as they kill us
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| And go to Wendy’s and have a burger and go to sleep
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| They gon' keep killing us
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| But when we die and they die
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| Then soon we gon' sit at a table, and talk about it, retired
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| We want some of this earth
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| Or we’ll this goddamn country apart!
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| Assalamualaikum! |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Extradite, artist - Freddie Gibbs. Album song Shadow of a Doubt, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп