Percee P - Nowhere Near Simple lyrics

[Percee P - Nowhere Near Simple lyrics]

I hit the cherry harder
I’m very tard of every part of my rhyme’s
Fine like Sherry Carter I have
You no adversaries smarter
I’m not about the Glocks, but dress dapper
Lyrics will just tap ya
Knock yo’ best rapper out the box
I bruise and batter, crews that scatter
That used to chatter
To aprove to the fools who's phatter
I win a course in the friend of yours
She’s in a cross
Leave ’em bloody like pads in
Your drawers for menopause
I’m dusting niggers
Urgently need emergency surgery
Every word will leave third
Degree burns from combustion
When the P show
Never get on before or after he flow
Amigo you know my steelo from
Wrecking Stretch & Bobbito
Your shit is wack and fertile
If your friend laugh
He need to skin grab, then chew him in half
Just like a snapping turtle
Put your crew to rest, lyrics
Go through your vest, that you the best
So for you to test
You must be on Buddha cess

I’m nowhere near simple (What?)
My mental (Cut) into (What?)
Niggas like a Ginsu

From the sound of it
I’m coming from the Boogie Down of shit
Where niggas are bound to flip
When you counterfeit
Hustling packing steel, acting ill
Attack and kill
A person to snatch their bills
If they ain’t got the rapping skills
I knock hotties, rock block parties
Where people carry Glock shotties
To drop bodies, when niggas got rowdy
Better renew your verse
Your crew is the worst
Claiming what they can do to
Perc' and who’s the first, what
Flow is in thoughts perfect, I drop the hype
After I rock tonight
Watch the mic short circuit
Your whole life ya never heard
A nigga more trifle
A flow nicer than me in no cipher
I’m like a wide screen
Showing drama word to mama
When I rhyme I cause more
Trauma then a homicide scene
Forget cable, some kid ate who, me?
My shit fatal since the time I
Used to rhyme on hit tables

I’m nowhere near simple (What?)
My mental (Cut) into (What?)
Niggas like a Ginsu

I got my rhyme through the
Creeping on niggas sleeping
And with a deacon to bless
The souls of rappers
I hit this weekend at the Ritz or Beacon
Let’s have a word, request the nurse
Niggas can’t mess with Perc' or possess
The worst shit ever heard
Résumé, say I’m one of the best today
Want to display I suggest you
Play "Yes you may"
The phat nigga, flowing on the tracks
Slicker
That rip the shit that make you rewind
Back quicker quote a rap to ya
Percee P wanted for first degree
Murder since you heard a verse from me
Check it
Much props getting dough like corrupt
Cops and drug spots
Lyrics, let of buck shots in your mug hops
Keeps it real, techniques are ill
Deep and skilled
Rappers reach for steel or wheels
When they peep the grill

I’m nowhere near simple (What?)
My mental (Cut) into (What?)
Niggas like a Ginsu

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