Intro/Rigamortis pt 2 - Rambo The Rapper songtext (lyrics)
[Intro/Rigamortis pt 2 - Rambo The Rapper songtext lyrics]
Alright, here we go, 12th real quick, nig
She on her knees like a sinner
I get under y'all niggas skin like splinters
Cheap but good like a TV Dinner
My breath smells like Liqour
I pile up ashes
Don't ask for your favorite rapper
(He dead) Yessir (Amen) Chuuch
(He dead) I killed him (Amen) Bitch
Got me feeling like Matrix
Dodge your bullets like fake shit
I try my hardest to be patient
For these niggas be vacant
Long time ago, damn I feel like I'm Acient
Blast off like a spaceship
Punctuate to the statement, This
Hatred I crave it, as I make it
I will eat it and then deny
I've done filled my appetite
I don't hang around like Suicide
I gotta get me a ride
And if I don't start it with a Why
Then don't even reply leBron when I finish
I only aim for these highlights
24 million eyes on me, I am the spotlight
Get it right stuck staring at my ass
Get outta my headlights
You niggas get exterminated
You fucking parasite
I got more room, I can finish it every night
(He dead, amen) That's what they telling me
White all over my nose
I'm stuck in the seventies lyrical pistol
Cock it aind aim at celebrities
Bull shit for lunch, brown bag
I don't your recipe
May I just Pull up at your fucking residence
Stories are cheap and your
Talking ain't selling it gold star
I'm either 1st grade or a fucking deputy
Yeah, Keller don't even Hellen me
Don't even go telling me
Bars dropping on they head unconscious
Studio felony cooking up your talk and I
Hope that taste lemony (BITCH)
(He dead) Yup-yup (Amen) I killed him
(He dead) Ha ha (Amen) Amen
She on her knees like a sinner
I get under y'all niggas skin like splinters
Cheap but good like a TV Dinner
My breath smells like Liqour
I pile up ashes
Don't ask for your favorite rapper
(He dead) Yup-yup (Amen) I know
(He dead) For sure (Amen) Amen
Like Sonic
I pedal my medal I gotta go faster
I want my bars to touch
These kids like the pastor
James Harden these rockets I
Ain't talking no NASA
I feel like Montana and I
Ain't talking about hannah
Split your bitch like Bannana she
Drink my cum like Fanta
A free bag of weed I might Grant her
She gave me cookies im santa
My Diamonds blick and white like a panda
And I got hoes in Atlanta
I go really Ballistic, ask El
Chapo I kill shit
Sip promethazine like ill shit
I gotta make it a law like I bill it
I ain't gonna stop till my
Dick size a million i'm on a money mission
Yeah i stay persistent
You in debt need assistants
I drop of shit like it's Christmas
Realest nigga you'll ever see
Realest shit I'll ever be
I will be head of the rap industry
Realist shit I will ever speak
Charge me with battery
Give-a-fuck span big as a teachers salary
I burn my rubber like calories, fuck
A new bitch last week, i think her
Name was malorie your rap is unsatisfactory
Rewrite that shit and go back
To the studio factory
She on her knees like a sinner
I get under y'all niggas skin like splinters
Cheap but good like a TV Dinner
My breath smells like Liqour
I pile up ashes
Don't ask for your favorite rapper
(He dead) Yessir (Amen) Chuuch
(He dead) I killed him (Amen) Bitch
Got me feeling like Matrix
Dodge your bullets like fake shit
I try my hardest to be patient
For these niggas be vacant
Long time ago, damn I feel like I'm Acient
Blast off like a spaceship
Punctuate to the statement, This
Hatred I crave it, as I make it
I will eat it and then deny
I've done filled my appetite
I don't hang around like Suicide
I gotta get me a ride
And if I don't start it with a Why
Then don't even reply leBron when I finish
I only aim for these highlights
24 million eyes on me, I am the spotlight
Get it right stuck staring at my ass
Get outta my headlights
You niggas get exterminated
You fucking parasite
I got more room, I can finish it every night
(He dead, amen) That's what they telling me
White all over my nose
I'm stuck in the seventies lyrical pistol
Cock it aind aim at celebrities
Bull shit for lunch, brown bag
I don't your recipe
May I just Pull up at your fucking residence
Stories are cheap and your
Talking ain't selling it gold star
I'm either 1st grade or a fucking deputy
Yeah, Keller don't even Hellen me
Don't even go telling me
Bars dropping on they head unconscious
Studio felony cooking up your talk and I
Hope that taste lemony (BITCH)
(He dead) Yup-yup (Amen) I killed him
(He dead) Ha ha (Amen) Amen
She on her knees like a sinner
I get under y'all niggas skin like splinters
Cheap but good like a TV Dinner
My breath smells like Liqour
I pile up ashes
Don't ask for your favorite rapper
(He dead) Yup-yup (Amen) I know
(He dead) For sure (Amen) Amen
Like Sonic
I pedal my medal I gotta go faster
I want my bars to touch
These kids like the pastor
James Harden these rockets I
Ain't talking no NASA
I feel like Montana and I
Ain't talking about hannah
Split your bitch like Bannana she
Drink my cum like Fanta
A free bag of weed I might Grant her
She gave me cookies im santa
My Diamonds blick and white like a panda
And I got hoes in Atlanta
I go really Ballistic, ask El
Chapo I kill shit
Sip promethazine like ill shit
I gotta make it a law like I bill it
I ain't gonna stop till my
Dick size a million i'm on a money mission
Yeah i stay persistent
You in debt need assistants
I drop of shit like it's Christmas
Realest nigga you'll ever see
Realest shit I'll ever be
I will be head of the rap industry
Realist shit I will ever speak
Charge me with battery
Give-a-fuck span big as a teachers salary
I burn my rubber like calories, fuck
A new bitch last week, i think her
Name was malorie your rap is unsatisfactory
Rewrite that shit and go back
To the studio factory