Print

Put the rap game on a crunch Blow the spot without warning You get no chance to back down Put the rap game on a crunch Blow the spot without warning You get no chance to back down Hop off my Harley Davidson lookin' like I just got hit with a cool stick Cherry red boots, cigarette lit and aggravated How come it's to this dirt road, moonshine trailer trash trooper Everyday's a party happy belated If you smokin' marijuana with your mama at 12 Then we either related or related in jail Street thangs, stealin' Honda's for them Asian gangs Hopefully Yao Ming's little sister would give me brains That's street cred for the uncredible nobodies Am I Bon Jovi lookin' like bitches, "I so got it" Loud it, Catfish Billy, get stoked shawty And I shined up the bowties up that box body And Alabama knows it, travel the world with my slangs Some of them don't get the slang but Alabama knows it I'm sweaty funk, humility punks, fish hook on the hat Dirty little then we float back, lips chapped I'm country hard Put the rap game on a crunch Letras de cancionesBlow the spot without warning You get no chance to back down Put the rap game on a crunch Blow the spot without warning You get no chance to back down Ain't nobody fresher than 'em and def with more pressure than 'em Never mess with niggas whose image is skinny, stretchy denim Just remember everyone who with me winners, everyone who with you dinner Bitches with you quick as Brucie Chrissy Jenner Chrome rims on a whip just to shine on niggas Black tires to look white, Tyrone Biggums Giving out turkeys on Thanksgiving like Nino with us We even passin' out TVs like Wendy Williams All I know is that I'm the wild child Y'all don't want no smoke with these bars All y'all niggas know is y'all SoundCloud Hypothetically say I'm pissed, I would definitely AR grip I would definitely spray y'all quick If y'all expectin' me to hesitate to shoot this bitch Then y'all are definitely in the playoffs with J.R. Smith I would definitely put my hand in your pocket But not the way you want I put your whole family in boxes like y'all the Brady Bunch Put the rap game on a crunch Blow the spot without warning You get no chance to back down Put the rap game on a crunch Blow the spot without warning You get no chance to back down I go bananas, too miraculous to react to mortal mammals Cookin' crack in my new velour pajamas Gettin' back to my roots, rap where I stored 'em hammers Lord of Grammar, my IQ's my actual portal panel My IP address is my dressers drawer, I ain't stressed unless it's war I ain't said shit unless it's more, I bet you you'll die less than my irons legend for regrettin' gore Ghost whiter than the driven snow and it's headed north Lookin' like it's for the seven floors, flows are metaphors Buried skulls all over the globe like a Stegosaurus My rifle kick back when it get blazed in the sky I'm a classic, I get dressed playin' Aquemini Don't do some shit to get your wifey kidnapped Have you on Twitter beggin' for your bitch back like Sage Gemini Why these niggas gettin' their hair dyed and they nails polished I'm like Biggie and Pac trapped inside of Big L's body Rhymes I create a knock out ya gold tooth Battlin' me is like fightin' a gorilla in a phone booth I wreck mics and drop the cool speeches Nowadays rappers think they motherfuckin' schoolteachers From Letras Mania