Dutch Masta, Jeezy, Cover of MGK - Poetic Assassination lyrics
Young Jeezy [Jay Wayne Jenkins] Columbia, South Carolina, U.S.🇺🇸
[Dutch Masta, Jeezy, Cover of MGK - Poetic Assassination lyrics]
Gambit, did you find them 2
Cards yet homie? Haaan?
I'm deuce four I'm on my grind
You seven eleven you nine to five
I'm feeling good I'm feeling fine
Pass the Dutchy pon the left hand side
Yea you better start running because we
Know you a track star
Revoke your scholarship because you ain't
Show up to class bruh
Because you in my studio tied
To that computer chair
Guess you think you Coolio living that
Gangstas Paradise in your head
Send that heat wifi coming
Through your fucking speakers
You on that Soulja Boy? Man I
Should have jumped on Ether
Now hold on, shut up
My fans about to throw up
I been doing this about 2 years and
You still on the come up?
You been doing this since fourteen acting
Like you got a gangsta grillz
Yeah you can deliver a flow but you
Gotta make sure ya lyrics kill
Gotta make that blood spill insulted
I did not feel and if you was so real you
Wouldn't have to make it clear
Sit back and crack a beer
I'm courtside you third tier
That four five is chrome steel
Bop bop all in ya grill
Yeah you callin me Dylon because
I spit that hot fire
This just in breaking news
Gambit just got fired
Seventeen years and you ain't
Relevant Angelina retire
Double AA you can be replaced
Just like some bald tires
Y'all some sweet motherfuckers treat you
Like some now and laters
Rip you acapella now then we
Clowning on you haters later
I don't need a fucking beat just take
A seat do us a favor
Plethora of hollow points pick and
Choose your favorite flavor
Intelligence and relevance that's whats
Gonna get you farther
You celibate not heaven sent you should
Change your name to father
Gam-bitch you not lyrical my flow
Sick it needs theraflu
I'm turnt up from head to toe that
Dope dick just ask your ho
Got her running for that long stroke
Make her touch all ten toes
You impatient motherfucker you knew
This shit was coming
Stick to what you do best
Motherfucker get to running
Cards yet homie? Haaan?
I'm deuce four I'm on my grind
You seven eleven you nine to five
I'm feeling good I'm feeling fine
Pass the Dutchy pon the left hand side
Yea you better start running because we
Know you a track star
Revoke your scholarship because you ain't
Show up to class bruh
Because you in my studio tied
To that computer chair
Guess you think you Coolio living that
Gangstas Paradise in your head
Send that heat wifi coming
Through your fucking speakers
You on that Soulja Boy? Man I
Should have jumped on Ether
Now hold on, shut up
My fans about to throw up
I been doing this about 2 years and
You still on the come up?
You been doing this since fourteen acting
Like you got a gangsta grillz
Yeah you can deliver a flow but you
Gotta make sure ya lyrics kill
Gotta make that blood spill insulted
I did not feel and if you was so real you
Wouldn't have to make it clear
Sit back and crack a beer
I'm courtside you third tier
That four five is chrome steel
Bop bop all in ya grill
Yeah you callin me Dylon because
I spit that hot fire
This just in breaking news
Gambit just got fired
Seventeen years and you ain't
Relevant Angelina retire
Double AA you can be replaced
Just like some bald tires
Y'all some sweet motherfuckers treat you
Like some now and laters
Rip you acapella now then we
Clowning on you haters later
I don't need a fucking beat just take
A seat do us a favor
Plethora of hollow points pick and
Choose your favorite flavor
Intelligence and relevance that's whats
Gonna get you farther
You celibate not heaven sent you should
Change your name to father
Gam-bitch you not lyrical my flow
Sick it needs theraflu
I'm turnt up from head to toe that
Dope dick just ask your ho
Got her running for that long stroke
Make her touch all ten toes
You impatient motherfucker you knew
This shit was coming
Stick to what you do best
Motherfucker get to running