Lyrics D.O.R. Death of Rap - Lil B

D.O.R. Death of Rap

Fuck the rap game
It’s that death of the rap game
Fuck the world
I’m God
Lil B
I’m militant, I’m very Based, I’m very proper
You want the war, you bring your troops, I’ll bring the choppers
You niggas gay, yeah, you gay, you fuckin' faggot
I’m head first, with 30 rounds I let them have it
Battlefield with fast cash, you never grab it
I post up with big blunts and Maseratis
Rick Ross, the new whip is Big Body
New Boys, you bitch-niggas I been Rocky
Been cocky, ask Josh, I been active
Ride a bus, with long straps, no riff-raff
Then you drive cars, we hold guns, Dodge Magnum
Yes, tragic how he left with no comments
Never settle for nigga-rich, I’m gonna rob em
Catch me slippin' with tiny pants, you think I’m nerdy
.45 got nice aim;
I throw curvy
My game, I run court, I’m James Worthy
From the block, I’m from the bricks like New Jersey
I did court, I did jail, you can’t hurt me
Waterfront the fam nigga, it’s West Berkeley
And they ask where I been, I been rappin'
You drive cars, you fuckin' fag, I been gassin'
In my eyes is blood, sweat and pain, cause
It’s a shame that they don’t know my name, Blood
Lil B: I blow trees in all seasons
Think I’m slippin?
Find out!
For no reason
Met pain, I met God, I met death
They all said I’m BasedGod, and that’s that
Spit sick, I spit rhymes, I spit facts
I’m not Drake, I ain’t come in the game rich
Fuck you if you don’t feel my game, bitch
Fuck you if you don’t like my name, bitch
BasedGod tell your girl, she could suck on it
Put money on God and I bust on him
Don’t hate!
I rock out like Philly rock
Real street, like a New York City block
Beat your ass like a New York City cop
Flipmode, a Rah Digga, a mind-figure
Fuck crackers, fuck hoes &fuck niggas
Fuck her, fuck you &fuck me
Lil B: I’m back bitch, I spit heat
Post up, I sell dimes and fat zips
Got crack: the cats come like catnip
Don’t trip: I never fold like napkins
Real goon, I’m just Robbin' like Baskins
Anthrax a real boy like Osama
Been played, I been beat, I love drama
X-Man on defense, it’s street shit
Riding up in deep tints &deep dish
Never thought I’d come hard?
I fooled you!
Been watchin', I cursed you it’s Voodoo
Been locked in, Mach-10s and Mac-10s
Leave his head split and no Cochran to back him
Don’t you niggas wish I’d fall off the Big League?
At my lowest point, sacrifice to make bread
XMR — call your bitch and get head
She don’t really like you: possum, she play dead
Riding up top.
Real niggas and big blocks
Say the pack dead?
bitch nigga the pack hot
All these new niggas is my sons, the new boys
Fuck you rap niggas: new guns and new toys
Infrared beam make you dream, then POOF!, boy
Semi-auto rounds make you scream like Luke, boy
Only other thing that I ain’t did is die yet
I don’t like that mindset, nigga, it’s the grind-set
Don’t wear a watch, cause it could be your time next
You not a threat: my rap flow is bomb threats
Stay in your house: I’m st&eding with death threats
Shit, think you hard?: I bust a nut like good sex
Think you real?
A Bay nigga, a hood vet
Lil B: I’m BasedGod with no stress
Incest, fuck your bruh and fuck your bitch
No homo… fuck your life, I’m getting rich
Mexican: I’m illegal, I move bricks
No love, I dog hoes like new pits
Doctor!
I need help, the game’s sick
Lil B give a fuck about the fame, bitch
Welcome to the army
D.O.R., nigga
Death Of Rap
Fuck all you rap niggas, Lil B run this shit
BasedGod