Lyrics Final Four 2 - Ea$y Money, Planet Asia, Rasco

Final Four 2

Slapboxing with Tyson, mic stick like an ice pick
Rap marksman writing cyphers with knives in bricks
The gallows to the pits, bottom this, bitch
You scared of your shadow, go wade in the kiddie pool
This drool’s for adults, this spit’s for grownups
That get stitched and sowned up, persistence on a
Bonafide fortified persona
Corona sipping on kidney donor
Aroma of the inner city living on 'em
Barely performing, phenomenon swarming
Nom de plum hunting on and on and on and task dawning
Last one in the casket closing, raps unloading
Past going, keep going, repping Law-town, Boston
Uh, let’s take it back to my battle days
Open for anyone who wanna take a swing at me, I’m like the batting cage
Fuck all the gats you blaze and all ya accolades
Fuck all the stacks you raise, let’s hear the raps you made
Got fire for any track I blaze, rappers I line 'em up like a Saturday
They dropping the fattest shit make you light up the fattest J
Take a sip of the Henny, slap your mother and blow your dad away
Niggas is mad at me but they ain’t acting cray
Give 'em a clip in broad day, it’s not a matinee
I leave these cats amazed
Talking 'bout «don't I know you from elementary school?»
Go that-a-way
Ayo, legend has it my bloodline is a strain sent from alien cells trillions of
years before y’all niggas theories
Clearly I missed the memo
That you was in effect like I give a fuck
This is life this is not a demo
It’s a pigeon on my shoulder, should I kill it?
Expensive acrylic
Water raft rugbies in the Honda Civic, ganja in the tinted
Back to back plays, what’s the business?
My vice is taking a life with vengeance
Wisdom, knowledge my henchmen
We go for Gouda with flair, beware
The owner of the rhyme is a shooter
Break bread with your bredrens we boss hustle
We travel 'round the globe with the pirates and swashbucklers
Slick talk at your bitch quick, you niggas is biz quick
Dick spitting that sick shit
Steph Curry, chalk shooter, my aim is insane
So when these niggas act I give 'em the Ving Rhames
Ain’t a thing change, my lyrics is fine wine
Emotional niggas be crying on they timeline
Stop tweeting to get eaten, your ass beaten
No time for the bullshit, we past seeking
I known niggas for years that don’t fuck with us
I don’t matter to me, I don’t trust niggas
Now they heads bigger, I’m ready to pop something
We the best at it, my nigga, so stop fronting
Enter the void, child
Please allow my words to focus 'cause I spread sickness like a plague of
locusts with tuberculosis
Weed so strong you gotta blow my herb in doses
Doo-rag cover my dome, call 'em urban turbans
In '95, I was young sipping that Erk and Jerk and
Close-minded, now Í'm wide eyed like an open person
Word, that’s what knowledge of self do
Y’all are my sons, pray that your father accepts you
The flame fire flow, that shit’ll melt you
Please understand no one ever felt you
I hope these truths helped you, it’s up to you to execute
Lebron at the end of the game, y’all niggas never shoot
A chain robbery untraceable but mountain gold
Pants sag, gun too large for belts to hold
Near my goal, buzz, dividends and biz to show
The last king was B.I.G., that was 20 years ago
Let’s talk recently, who wanna sneak a shot
Last time I threw him something I hit him with a speakerbox
conviction
From whyling as a youth, took the risk in advance
Plus the whisky and branch got me frisky to dance
I don’t do a two step unless I switch up my stance
He was trying to keep it peaceful, I’m itchin' to flip
Me and Reks spreading sickness on some Michigan shit
Hardbody God body
Riot pump tactician quick to blast my shottie
A selfmade nigga, nothing can stop me
You a helpmade nigga wearing skirts and stockings
While you cyber thumb thugging we come through and we pop things
Heard you caught two in your arms, that what we call hot wings
All black heavy Chevy sitting on hot things
You youngsters need to do your homework
Before the season vets show you how the chrome work
I’m surgical with it
Cold-blooded, Eastside fool, I’m merciful with it
I’m surgical with it
Cold-blooded, Eastside fool, I’m merciful with it
Michigan native, burn something when I’m getting creative
My critical rage is contagious
Fam be like just page us
'cause they know I go loco and go solo
From the era where they roll momo’s on low pro’s
And do whatever when the dough go
Shout out to Detroit dojos
7 Mile & Trinity for vocals
I went on a killing spree
No remorse when I flow in course
Let somebody hold the torch when I’m going off
I can’t react for my habitat, I know the source
Unlike those that wrote me off, yeah