Ras Kass - Air 'Em Out lyrics

Jea! Re-Up! A J-Classic classic razzy
Rest in peace Justo
I'm about to air these niggas out one time

Yo yo, ain't no nigga like the one right here
Spit flames
Leave bloodstains on one night gear
G-Star jeans, gun right near
And the homey X just fucked
Usher's bitch like "yeah!"
Dawg I'mma spit the hottest shit
Fuck a dentist
Eat a fire department and proctologists
Ras Kass, King of the West, acknowledge this
And get a piece of
The rock like meteorogologists
What Dame Dash and hapha is
645 Coupe the same color Chewbacca is
And you's a nigga everybody hates
Like Jar Jar Binks that clown at the bar
Buying hot bitches drinks
And she's passin' them to me
What you know about Chinchilla
Minks? Ten killers deep
Skittle flavored diamonds, first it's blue
Then it's pink candy painting was off
Dog we floodin' the streets

I wILL
NOT lOSE
I (RE-UP about that fetti)
WILL (Load up your Glocks, get ready) nOT
LOSE (haha jea jea jea)

Hood niggas if your arms up, bear it out
Niggas ain't scared, if it's drama
We gon' air 'em out! If your whip on chrome
What you carin' 'bout?
Drop the top, do a buck 10, dawg
Air 'em out!
Who spit flame, nigga never doubts?
No problem, it's nothing, I'mma air 'em out
East, West, up North to the Dirty South
(air 'em out)
I'mma (air 'em out) , I'mma (air 'em out)

Yo

I keep shit off the chain
Like broken clasp, medallions fallin' off
And yall niggas hopin' Ras go
Play on the freeway
But I'm that agent in the Matrix: Reloaded
Jumpin' out movin' cars, smashin' your
Hoods for the keys, man
And not the ones that open doors
Por fa vor, I'm talkin' ki, mayne
Silencer on the SPK
Fuck BDS them fuckin' MTV VJ's
R&B singers, new found fact
Got a 9 inch dick
Tell your bitch to SoundScan that!
And my Down South cats be like "What it do?"
Cause my little cousin's bein'
Memphis classic blue and niggas still ga not
Ga-knowin' as Gary ga-Knew
Plus I'm more Chris Real so
Long with Big Punished brew
Downstairs in Jimmy's Cafe, album released
Young nigga in the belly, but now I'm a beast
And it's like Sin City
Every town holdin' heat
So I'm like the yellow nigga
Kid it's foul when I speak
And my baby moms said I need
To cut down on my cheatin'
Started fuckin' midgets, kept creepin'
You ain't gotta tell me
I know you feelin' this shit
I hear what I'm sayin' I
Know I'm killin' this shit, nigga


Sometimes it all seems fucked up though
Rest in peace
Cause what's mixtapes without Justo?
Sip the' Grey Goose
Thinkin' about that ride on the Gray Goose
Ankles chained, headin' to Beirut
Crucified next to some nigga named Jesus
Died ressurected, bustin' blue
Still trey-deuced so yall niggas better
Respectognize shit's real
When my mixtape's hotter than
Every album this year