Lyrics I'm on It - Marco Polo, Ruste Juxx

I'm on It

Ya know what I’m sayin'?
Mafuckas be like, «Yo, I don’t fuck with Rus
That nigga’s mad grimy, man
He always on that Crown Heights, Brooklyn bullshit, man»
Stick 'em up, keep 'em up, give it up — easy
Big guns in the heezy, you real freezy
My niggas breezy, feezy, no reezy
So take that shit off slow and be breezy
(Poof) — Gone with the Wind
It’s either that or eat a whole cartridge, chrome to ya chin
These shells don’t taste like Velveeta
These shells hotter than a motherfuckin' heater
Like the bass bangin' out your motherfuckin' speaker
Your brains would be hangin' out your motherfuckin' beaker
Muppet ass niggas ain’t animal
Talk a lot of hot shit, like you ain’t flamable
Rappers can’t fuck with me, I don’t need Ruck with me
Bet I got a steel and attack that’d buck with me
Just that ruthless, life’s so useless
No more cryin' with your bullshit excuses
You’re done
Roll schoma and a dutch
Your mama is a slut
You don’t want drama
Cock the llama, nigga what
That Crown Heights Brooklyn bullshit I’m on it
Yeah yeah I’m on it
Anybody want it they can get it automatic
Automatic or semi — homie you can have it
Nigga came home flagged out had it
Bitch you rat it, you a faggot, fuck you
I ain’t never trust you, son look suspect
Like a the east side of a horse going west
Think about it while i rape the rhythm
Take a pull, percolate the 'ism
I brake through walls, knock doors of hinges
Snatch rich niggas out of drop top Benz’s
Niggas couldn’t see me through telescope lenses
I don’t follow them I set trendses
Young rap cop the respect of OG
Before I blast choppers, eject the Uzi
Trust — you don’t wanna make me angry
Big steel chains couldn’t restrain me I’m a beast
Roll schoma and a dutch
Your mama is a slut
You don’t want drama
Cock the llama, nigga what
That Crown Heights Brooklyn bullshit I’m on it
Yeah yeah I’m on it
I see the fear in his eyes he went so sleep 'fore I hit him
The pastor said it was fucked up how I did him
Slid him under a truck, one-hitter quitter
Tryin' to get gangster on Twitter (Computer thugs)
Exactly what I would expect from trash rappers
For Hip Hop, out of respect I smash rappers
Put 'em out they misery, send 'em up the upper room
Knock-knock, who?
Death motherfucker boom
Marco Polo got that bump for ya boombox
From the hood, to the 'burbs to the boondocks
From the Caddy’s to the Jeeps to the sport cars
Strip joints, for the clubs and the sports bars
My name ringin' like Big Ben at twelve-noon
Shootin' mark brand niggas straight to hell soon
As you hear the baseline and the first rhyme
You stand froze like you witnessin' the worst crime
Roll schoma and a dutch
Your mama is a slut
You don’t want drama
Cock the llama, nigga what
That Crown Heights Brooklyn bullshit I’m on it
Yeah yeah I’m on it