Celph Titled, Fabolous, Hot Karl, Redman - Blao! lyrics

Fabolous [John David Jackson]

[Celph Titled, Fabolous, Hot Karl, Redman - Blao! lyrics]

You're lookin' at the rookie rapper
With a years biggest itcha rows
Yeah this nigga switch his flows
Yeah I dig and switch his hoes
Hear them niggas snitch to po's
Where a nigga pitch his blow
And how my hustle gross is
Near that nigga Richard Po's
I share my figures with the hoes
I'm where the digger stitch his clothes
It's ghetto FABOLOUS
I got street legend, fame
I'm the kid known to put the
Colt to a bredren's frame
Like he's Edgerrin James
Y'all stash guns I carry 'em on my waist
Ya part time piece aquarium interface
The hood rat Hugh Heff
Loungin' on ya in the Rolls
The project Playmates
Around the corner centerfolds
I'm constant hated
Listen to the nonsense stated
But niggas can't shit on
Me like they constipated
I briefly conversated
These doors sittin' on ten times two
Mami what's so complicated? Ya heard?

Blao! Explosion, game on lock
Hotness, drop this, it's that sick hip hop
It's like blao!

I'm a coast to coast G
Keep the toaster closely
So duck deez motherfucker blao!

Said it before, ready for war
With my sawed off shotgun, hand on the pump
Pump blao!

Slap my gat, I ain't hear to talk
You wanna make it gutter I can
Throw you off the sidewalk

It's like Karl
Pac and Biggie is the greatest to rhyme
Problem is, this list only exists in my mind
So instead
I listen to your style and keep laughin'
You beatin' me rappin'
That's like Jim Abbott clappin'
That'll never happen, I'm sicker of course
Then droppin' a dime
Like Shawn Kemp's child support
Look at all you kids
Underground and straight shook
You ain't gettin' signed like
Nerdy kids yearbooks
I'm gettin' second looks but
The industry is shitty
Cause, I'd rather die than
Ever sound like Chingy right Thurr
Come on dawg you ain't gettin' robbed
Cause it's uneven, like Dru Hill on a seesaw
Yo, you don't want any bad
Blood in between us
Like we're standing right next
To Magic Johnson's intravenous

It's Hot Karl and Celph so
If you wanted a hit

You can peep the famous guys
And fast forward our shit

Blao! Explosion, game on lock
Hotness, drop this, it's that sick hip hop
It's like blao!

I'm a coast to coast G
Keep the toaster closely
So duck deez motherfucker blao!

Said it before, ready for war
With my sawed off shotgun, hand on the pump
Pump blao!

Slam my gat, I ain't hear to talk
You wanna make it gutter I can
Throw you off the sidewalk

They say cause I don't believe
In Christ that I'm misled
Been shot at twice but never
Hit I just miss lead
Get it right, the name's Celph Titled
Straight out of motherfuckin' Tampa
Leavin' enough gun smoke to
Give you lung cancer plans for your album?
It's best if you lose those
Shoot up your MPC and you gonna
Find a few loop holes
We sellin' bullet wounds, havin' a wholesale
Leavin' complex patterns all in your
Head so you know braille
And so frail rappers
Y'all ain't Dance With Wolves
Just swimmin' with sharks
When the hammer get's pulled
Any witnesses? Who's tellin'? Nobody
The perfect crime, no autopsy, and no body
Without a neck you can't rock that chain
No way for air to get to your brain
Another murder for this Cuban to claim
An inconsiderate asshole pissin' on you
What else you expect? That's
What a dickhead do

Blao! Explosion, game on lock
Hotness, drop this, it's that sick hip hop
It's like blao!

I'm a coast to coast G
Keep the toaster closely
So duck deez motherfucker blao!

Said it before, ready for war
With my sawed off shotgun, hand on the pump
Pump blao!

Slam my gat, I ain't hear to talk
You wanna make it gutter I can
Throw you off the sidewalk

Yo Doc, pee on your floor
I'mma be on the whore till she knocked out
Then I take a G out her drawer i'm a thief
On the streets you might be in the morgue
Doin' a chicken of course
I take a key out a Porsche ah
Box 'em in claustrophobic
I'm a pro y'all, know this
When sensing y'all controllers
Grown men is talkin'
This the fast lane, move over to the margin
It's over when I walk in
"Doctor" on my license plate
The front of my truck
Resembles Mike Tyson face
When I pull up to the club
The buildin' shake hoes start runnin' out
Niggas start runnin' mouth
I'mma bolt the door and security the area
Got! We molt floors to secure the Dillinger
Yo Doc! You want war, I'll be sure to bury ya
The more the merrier, but your blao!

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