Lyrics Bullies - Solomon Childs, Cappadonna

Bullies

«You fucked me?»
«I did not!»
«Yeah you did.
You went behind my back, you cut me, you fucked me.»
«Me?
Nah.
never!
What the hell.
maybe you’re right
Maybe I did betray you a little bit»
Time to ride out… yeah…
All the way ride out…
You can be the biggest bully you want
You can think you as hard as you is
But there ain’t nothing in this world
To convince, you snitching, who you claim you is
Mr. Boulevard, see Murda Mob Gang
West Brighton murder capital, non identical
Wild like Hiroshima, with a bomb, taped to my gut
In a terminal, project guillotine, fired like Heat from the beam’ll
Scorch ya bitch ass like the oil, from the prontono plants
Shit I became a long way since '74 suicide watch
Millennium mixtape, alpha and omega
On the block pushing diesel and the crack together
Momma could feed the general, crying over papa’s war letters
Old timers look at my soul, say that it’ll raise the hurricane
Gun hostler very wing, only time you smell the powder burning
Is when the ratchet empty, either you with me or against me
Fuck rap, this for them 25 to lifers
Added to hot pot cookers, produced by the madness
Spit enough ammo to conjugate a death list
Lines of torture, M.C.'s
Like being tied down, guzzling goat piss
Made movie, it should of been box office smashes
Equipped with sparks, like books of matches
Officer and a Gentleman Part 2
In soldier colors, red fatigue
Wipe the blade clean, with black tee’s
I’m here for whoever holding the crown
Understand me, I pop something
I’m so glorified, and don’t mistake me for G-Unit
But them semi’s I spit at your unit
I blow the head off your Voltron, fuck ya average song
I set flame to your wiz, put the game all over your kids
Know what it is, Verrazano Bridge music
The third coming of the lost and found
Ever since the fall of the Roman Empire
Me and Solomon Childs been holding it down
Beat the bully out ya’ll, you a thug in a gown
You ain’t shooting at me, you put your slugs in the ground
And I’m all the way hot with it, and you not with it
You got fitted for your lifestyle, you the last decade shit
We right now, Don Diggler, my bear’s in the background
Staten Island for real, ya’ll fake niggas think ya’ll real
Kick doors down, take my reel
Greedy ass niggas, sittin' on Benz wheels, I put snakes on 'em
High stakes on 'em (crack crates on 'em)
Bully start running when the planet of the apes on 'em