Forthwrite, GMC - Kiss of Death lyrics

Uh yeah
Uh yeah

You feel the bass and the treble
Go slow though
Man, I dance with the devil, but no homo
You talk about your fan club
But you don’t know flows
Fan club? I guess your fans
At your shows don’t show
Grab a cricket bat and smack guys for six
(yeah)
And PEZ is loyal, he smacks guys for '6
Talk like a bitch
You get smacked like a bitch
And I'm broke as all fuck, but
I act like I’m rich, uh
This scene seems to act like they're sick
Yeah, they might have rhymes
But they rap kind of shit
(Never, never) I don't rap, I just disrespect
I've got no respect for anything
I'll diss respect (Fucker)
And they ask
Am I really good at drinkin'? Yes
Nine shots'd have you slurrin'
Words like 50 Cent (Fucker)
And GMC's real, you're actin'
We could give a fuck would accent he raps in

(That’s real)
Uh, there's no hooks in our notebooks
Yeah (yeah, you know why?
'Cause hooks are overrated, cunt)
There’s no hooks in our notebooks
(We don’t follow trends anymore
We’re Forthwrizzy) yeah
There's no hooks in our notebooks
(No hookies… my verse is a hook anyway
You fucking dickhead)

Yeah, ayo check it out, uh
Yo, I can kick one flow and you know it
It's P-Easy
I wanna quit this shit, but I can't
'cause the scene needs me this seems easy
(Yep) , that's 'cause it is, motherfucker
Believe me, you can't see me, nah
So don’t talk any shit
'cause you’re not better
What’s better than P' and 3' with GMC?
They should call us the flow
Of the next century
The only person near how we're
Flowin' is Seth Sentry and
Rob Mantra (What?) You should have those
Names on your list, if you don’t
Wrong answer
I wanna get all these wack rappers replaced
These acts slapped in the face till
They're smacked back in their place
(that, bitch)
I know you all might misconstrue our
Confidence as sort of more
Like being too proud
Bottom line, Forthwrite is the crew now
I’m saying it, ‘cause Forthwrite
Spit the truth, blaow

(P-Easy) there’s no hooks in our notebooks
(P-E-Z… get it? Keep up
Mate) There’s no hooks in our notebooks
(Just have a glance through, mate
They’re not there)
There’s no hooks in our notebooks
(Nah, no hookies, no hookies) gMC!

When they when they hear me rap, they like
"He's on something"
They see me dance, they like
"He's on something"
VIP on the weed and I’m blunted
And when it wears off, drop E and I’m munted
And when that wears off
More E and I’m buzzin'
And when I pop more, believe I am krumpin'
They see me peak like a eagle or somethin'
When they built me
They didn't read the instructions (Nope)
Gets fucked up, I’m debris and destruction
I gets fucked up beyond reasonable function
King of this country, you can call me
Arthur, Solomon or Caesar or something
And I got a little groupie in
My ear and she buggin'
She got bad breath, she OD'd on the onions
Fuck bitch off, 'cause people are nothin'
I am GMC, I don’t need introductions
Got it locked down with the
Keys to the dungeon kiss the ring, bitch
Like I’m Smeagol or something
Three letter boss, self-esteem in abundance
Forthwrite, big dogs, pee on you munchkins