| Coast-to-coast, you know how the fuck we ride
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| Here we go, let’s go
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| Uh, uh, yo, check it
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| (I was) I was born with the mind of a madman
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| Understand Terror pushin' dust like a fan, goddamn
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| You just found out that I’m the man, where you been at?
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| I get more head than a snapback cap
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| It’s been like that since way before we bounced back
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| We snatchin' diamonds out the glass and we sell 'em right back
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| Fuck around and get jacked, nah, you can’t have it back
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| The vanilla villain, always keep his train on the tracks
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| So give me the cheese, hit the floor, Reid all up in your ho
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| Bust the four-five, nosedive, you ain’t make it out the door
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| Now we standin' toe-to-toe, but I can’t stand a filthy ho
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| You ain’t about this life so check yourself and get ghost
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| Oh, he ain’t know? |
| I curl hoes' toes with my flavor blasted flows
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| About enough dough to make a ocean explode
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| This ain’t a joke, I ain’t a TV show host
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| I’m with the 305, demon doin' the most
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| And while we on the subject, you’re fuckin' with a suspect
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| He frontin' that we know that, we fuck him up in public
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| He probably off that Prozac, swingin' from my ballsack
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| Just got the .9 shined, bitch made, and you don’t want that
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| You can’t rap like me, mothafucka, I just started
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| Comin' to clean it up like Wahlberg in The Departed
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| So let me pass it off to the OG trendsetter
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| Microphone shredder (Yuh), y’all mothafuckas better (Yuh)
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| Follow me, follow me (Follow me)
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| I can show you everything you weren’t supposed to see
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| Like your family in the sea with they feet all in concrete, bitch
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| Grab yo' daddy’s gun and come with me
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| (Grab yo' daddy’s gun and come with me)
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| Follow me, follow me (Follow me, woo)
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| I can show you everything you weren’t supposed to see
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| Like a million in cash, grab the cheddar, better wear a mask
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| Outlaws in the cut, we 'bout to burn yo' ass
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| You don’t want me to bring it back to my old ways
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| It’s always my way, baby, all-day
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| It’s my day today, I’m playin' with the AK (Brr, brr)
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| Got the .40 clappin' broad day like «A Bay Bay» (A Bay Bay)
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| I’m feelin' myself, forty thousand on the felt
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| I got a problem, can somebody get me help?
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| Better yet a belt, see me hangin' from my ceiling fan
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| No, I can’t be your Superman 'cause I can’t save myself
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| Baby Bone got a bone to pick with rappers thinkin' they slick
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| They quick to lick the dick, they jumpin' ship-to-ship, no loyalty
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| Money, money, money, yeah, the root of evil
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| Got me jumpin' over backwards like Evel Knievel
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| Let me die like Elvis, where I feel my safest
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| I just pray the opposition don’t find where the safe is
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| My bitches don’t get fed until they bring me bread
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| How many rappers in my city really want me dead?
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| Hate turn into jealousy, then it turn into bullets
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| I look my enemy in the eye, yellin', «Pussy, just pull it»
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| You 'bout that? |
| I doubt that, I took your baby mama
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| Straight to outback, and blew her fuckin' back out, I’m 'bout that
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| Follow me, follow me (Follow me)
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| I can show you everything you weren’t supposed to see
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| Like your family in the sea with they feet all in concrete, bitch
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| Grab yo' daddy’s gun and come with me
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| (Grab yo' daddy’s gun and come with me)
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| Follow me, follow me (Follow me, woo)
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| I can show you everything you weren’t supposed to see
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| Like a million in cash, grab the cheddar, better wear a mask
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| Outlaws in the cut, we 'bout to burn yo' ass
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| Uh, yo, HOT VODKA
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| Pouya, Reid
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| In this bitch, uh |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Outlawz , by - Terror Reid. Song from the album HOT VODKA 1, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп