Slaughterhouse - Cosmic Kev Freestyle lyrics

[Slaughterhouse - Cosmic Kev Freestyle lyrics]

Baby I'm lawless
You couldn't burn me if you threw acid on me
I'm at you homie
I'm at your home ready to spray
You while you nappin' homie
Have everything on and around
Your mattress lookin' like
The word in front of a matrimony
You high, thug yeah go 'head jump
No matter how high you get
You gon' come up short like Spud Webb
My DUI's get waved like saying bye
Still ridin' with no L's like James Todd
Can't change I thank God for my safe thinking
Last time I was safe thinking
Me and my niggas was doin' a bank job
I stay violent, y'all go to the peace route
You got a mouth like Kanye
I'll knock your whole bottom row of teeth out
No disrespect to Mr west
I'm just nice with mine
And this just rap, I'm like Ricky Hatton
I just like the line
These weak rappers wanna set us up
They never tough they ask me for a hook, I
Tell 'em left or right, head or gut
What y'all messin' with is a
Nigga that'll leave you FUBAR
Fucked up beyond all recognition
Y'all are rock stars, I'm the opposite
I could just throw a rock and hit
A star for the fuck of it
Partner, you're not hard
I body your hot bars beef is left you pray
Right like Allahu Akbar
Let's go, when I leave y'all shot
You ain't gon' be on your Metro
In a bad area that call dropped

Aiyo, never going broke again
Picture me poor
I walk in the jewelry shop, draw Glocks
Empty the store
Crooked’s a man-eating lion please don’t
Tempt me to roar
Ghetto enough to put hydraulics
On a Bentley Azure
Pimp me a whore, tough talk I simply ignore
Thousand dollar automatic weapons defend
Me in war i rock a stocking cap in case
I gotta pull it right over my well-known
Face and strong-arm the whole place
Its killer Cal styzz-al
Where crimi nals prowl
My residu-als pizz-ile, my lyri-cal style
Make them dudes sound goofy?
It’s like you telling a statue to flinch
My nigga your words don’t move me
They make want to trip with this gauge
And I was born with bars
Mom shoulda named me Nicholas Cage
You get no action
I beats mo’ ass than Joe Jackson
I tote magnums even if I go fo’ platinums
I blast that Enyce shirt
I’ll make your bitch drop her DK skirt
Cuz that’s how niggas in southern CA work
I stay swift, walk with my chest out like
An Ese on May fifth
I’ll tell you you ain’t shit
And gangsta rap ain't dead, it never died
It took steroids to the head
And became Crooked I
On the "book placed by the Gideons"
We can feud like cowboys and Indians
Or Israelis and Palestinians
I didn’t wanna resort to this
But my cerebral cortex is a
Fortress where metaphors exist
Hit you with the force of Morpheus
After I transform my fist
To a hammer too heavy for Thor to lift
Through a course of metamorphosis
'Cos this dude is more than sick
Sicker than newborn porn
Swinging on some George Foreman shit
Warn your clique I pop cowards
Nine millimeters of Glock power
I Drop trousers, do your girl
In a hot shower, for a hot hour
Drop her off at the Watts Towers
The block’s ours
You stoping us it's not now or never
I’ll never let these snake niggas take me
I blow out brains to entertain
Me when I’m angry
I don’t tangle, I choke, strangle
Break both ankles dangle you from a rope
Clothes hang you from a cold angle
The Mangler so anxious to kill, able to spill
Ancient languages dangerous as
80 painkilling pills
Young jacker, Gucci hat tilted, gun clapper
I’m every artist resting in
Peace in one rapper chrome ending your life
Strong enough to stab you with the
Wrong end of a knife – gangsta type
And I wasn't supposed to be here
Microphone holding
My father didn’t want me but
I broke through his Trojan

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