Slaine, Bad Newz, Lecks Get It On - Rats Maze lyrics
[Slaine, Bad Newz, Lecks Get It On - Rats Maze lyrics]
If it's one thing I hate
In this world, homie, it's rats
Can't stop, won't stop, damn
Up in front the dollar store stood the whore
She's up to no good before
Walk into your crib high heels
Hitting the wooden floor
Sky across her abdomen
Brown eyes shitty face
Cold so cold amongst the projects
City scapes
A fat man is fucking her his pop belly hangs
He wheezes when he breathes
Jesus she got fangs
She's stranger than a stranger
She's dangerous she played Atari while old
Man smoked angel dust
Back as kids hanging on the
Bench of cracking bearing
Her boyfriend so crack he's back
To rack and tearing
She dropped out in the 10th grade
But the sack a smack
And after that got kicked around
Like a hackey sack
Shit is a cold world for a girl
She never had a conscious
She only had abortions
Beggars can't be choosers
You eat shit in rationed portions
This is a story about a bitch back in Boston
If it's one thing I hate
In this world, homie, it's rats
Can't stop, won't stop, damn
Boston's a good place to meet bad people
I can't even explain that
The dangerous, the ruggedness
Depressin', Pathetic
Can't stop, won't stop, damn
Boston's a good place to meet bad people
Little man's broke
Plus his mom struggle with cold pops
An OG that ODed last screams
Made his veins freeze
On the southern smoked over
Chilling in his shoulder
Screwing in his lap he cooked his smack
Gave us all a slap
From the greatest crap he died
From a fatal zap
Besides that, his nesses is smoking rest
Far from blast, rising questions
For the one's who'll die next
Starring at the pie racks
Up in the projects watching his
Mom scrip the lighter
The pipe even tighter, she took a toke
Filled her lungs with smoke
Held until she chocked
And blew a cloud from her throat and spoke
Like this is the cope reason to
Cope and pour a C note
I purchase 5 20's with the
Money rip the plastic bag
Placed a rock on the glass
And yelled the second glass is strong
Drag the churk and rob the ash
Cough like an old hag like
Little man paces the bad
Praying for paces with the paces in Boston
Mass
If it's one thing I hate
In this world, homie, it's rats
Can't stop, won't stop, damn
Boston's a good place to meet bad people
I can't even explain that
The dangerous, the ruggedness
Depressin', Pathetic
Can't stop, won't stop, damn
Boston's a good place to meet bad people
Ayo, purp smoke blowing in her
Hair now she going hard
Door knockers on the air
Swimming slobbin oggs live on her knees but
Worship ain't the purpose
She giving hat service
Slurping niggas for purses
Open the closed curtains
She fucking everyday y'all
Clubbing every night different players
On the radar smuther around the way y'all
Day long no stopping
Mels in and out the box she the post office
No dark physiques bitch pop and burnin
Fry a nigga wig Malcom X with his permin
Vermin, all in the apartment squirming
Dirty laundry, pow dishes no detergent
Words she done play a few
Snooze and she 'll take your dough
Canari type for a wife can't mistake the hoe
Got a couple nigga hit
Round she don't give a shit
Nothing new same old script
Just a different beat
If it's one thing I hate
In this world, homie, it's rats
Can't stop, won't stop, damn
Boston's a good place to meet bad people
I can't even explain that
The dangerous, the ruggedness
Depressin', Pathetic
Can't stop, won't stop, damn
Boston's a good place to meet bad people
In this world, homie, it's rats
Can't stop, won't stop, damn
Up in front the dollar store stood the whore
She's up to no good before
Walk into your crib high heels
Hitting the wooden floor
Sky across her abdomen
Brown eyes shitty face
Cold so cold amongst the projects
City scapes
A fat man is fucking her his pop belly hangs
He wheezes when he breathes
Jesus she got fangs
She's stranger than a stranger
She's dangerous she played Atari while old
Man smoked angel dust
Back as kids hanging on the
Bench of cracking bearing
Her boyfriend so crack he's back
To rack and tearing
She dropped out in the 10th grade
But the sack a smack
And after that got kicked around
Like a hackey sack
Shit is a cold world for a girl
She never had a conscious
She only had abortions
Beggars can't be choosers
You eat shit in rationed portions
This is a story about a bitch back in Boston
If it's one thing I hate
In this world, homie, it's rats
Can't stop, won't stop, damn
Boston's a good place to meet bad people
I can't even explain that
The dangerous, the ruggedness
Depressin', Pathetic
Can't stop, won't stop, damn
Boston's a good place to meet bad people
Little man's broke
Plus his mom struggle with cold pops
An OG that ODed last screams
Made his veins freeze
On the southern smoked over
Chilling in his shoulder
Screwing in his lap he cooked his smack
Gave us all a slap
From the greatest crap he died
From a fatal zap
Besides that, his nesses is smoking rest
Far from blast, rising questions
For the one's who'll die next
Starring at the pie racks
Up in the projects watching his
Mom scrip the lighter
The pipe even tighter, she took a toke
Filled her lungs with smoke
Held until she chocked
And blew a cloud from her throat and spoke
Like this is the cope reason to
Cope and pour a C note
I purchase 5 20's with the
Money rip the plastic bag
Placed a rock on the glass
And yelled the second glass is strong
Drag the churk and rob the ash
Cough like an old hag like
Little man paces the bad
Praying for paces with the paces in Boston
Mass
If it's one thing I hate
In this world, homie, it's rats
Can't stop, won't stop, damn
Boston's a good place to meet bad people
I can't even explain that
The dangerous, the ruggedness
Depressin', Pathetic
Can't stop, won't stop, damn
Boston's a good place to meet bad people
Ayo, purp smoke blowing in her
Hair now she going hard
Door knockers on the air
Swimming slobbin oggs live on her knees but
Worship ain't the purpose
She giving hat service
Slurping niggas for purses
Open the closed curtains
She fucking everyday y'all
Clubbing every night different players
On the radar smuther around the way y'all
Day long no stopping
Mels in and out the box she the post office
No dark physiques bitch pop and burnin
Fry a nigga wig Malcom X with his permin
Vermin, all in the apartment squirming
Dirty laundry, pow dishes no detergent
Words she done play a few
Snooze and she 'll take your dough
Canari type for a wife can't mistake the hoe
Got a couple nigga hit
Round she don't give a shit
Nothing new same old script
Just a different beat
If it's one thing I hate
In this world, homie, it's rats
Can't stop, won't stop, damn
Boston's a good place to meet bad people
I can't even explain that
The dangerous, the ruggedness
Depressin', Pathetic
Can't stop, won't stop, damn
Boston's a good place to meet bad people