The Ill Spoken, Vinny Radio - Say Goodnight Freestyle lyrics

The young niño, wearin' his jeans low
Chillin' with Vintage and Beedie
And killin' this primo
The young niño, wearin' his jeans low
Chillin' with Vintage and Beedie and-
The young niño, wearin' his jeans low
Chillin' with Vintage and Beedie
And killin' this primo (You know)
Ill Spoken, basically I got that mean flow-
The young niño, wearin' his jeans low
Chillin' with Vintage and Beedie
And killin' this primo (You know)
Ill Spoken, basically I got that mean flow
I make it hot
Like you puttin' on three coats (Yup)
I spit remarkably with words that
Could part the seas spark the tree
Grab a pen and pad and just start the beat
(Chyeah) 'Cause, I'm just tryna
(Chill, chill) write some shit
Light the spliff
Get high 'cause life's a bitch
So we have nights of mischief
Hittin' piff, flippin' zips, chips
Takin' cats out they licorice (Gimme that)
I'm all skills, no name, no nothing
Game don't care about the flame, no chain
No lovin'
You spit fire, Easy Mac's got that blue flame
(Yup)
I'm heated, wheated, ready to do things
This shit amazes me
Thought I had a new brain (Uh, huh)
And feelin' this dude's game is too plain
Ba da boom bang (Oh)
Cats thinkin' they can hang
Got yourself a gun
Now cats thinkin' they can slang
(What you doin'?)
I kick knowledge at those who need to learn
And I spit fire towards the
MC's who need to burn (Burn)
Burn, baby, burn, it's the baby's turn
Crazy spittin', rabies, AIDS be worse
Spreadin' sickness, sprayin' germs
(Germs, germs) yeah, and that's how it goes
In case you haven't heard before
(What?) , well, now you know (Haha)

Ayo, I move on tracks like trains
And drop jewels on tracks like chains
Let a fat sack relax my brain
I attack tracks with a flat-line aim
Vintage kick it classic 'cause that's my name
For the bread, I am leaving cats flat
As Beedie gettin' cheesy
It's simple as Easy Mac
The Ill Spoken on The Come Up
Still smokin' when the blunt's done
'Cause we that fire, better ask someone
Hope you catch just rap for fun
'Cause we run laps around ya tracks
Faster than the NASCAR runs
I just wanna smash somethin' with
The ass all plump
Splash fast, watch some MASH re-runs
Sip some Coke and rum
Hip-hop, ya hope has come
How High get more playin' time
Than the coach's son
Known as Vinny The Truth, strong as 151
And I'll give 'em the proof
So, Beedie, give 'em the poof

On the mic, I flip balls like Dominique Dawes
I'm the hunt to get yours
I kinda need to floss (What?)
Gotta be the boss
These other rappers is soft
Like toilet tissue, so official
I'm feelin' it, sauce
(What up?) i'm in the club, man
But ain't nobody heard about me
I'm in a pair of Air Nikes
And a dirty white tee
I see a couple of cuties
And they lookin' at me (Sup, baby?)
Could it be? I'm sippin'
Vodka mixed with purple (Haha)
Sippin' and spillin'
The villains wildin' at the ball
Without a proper ID
I be the underaged, the person with
That's ready to rip your heart out
I feel it up in my veins (Fuck)
It's me, Vinny, and Mac
Spittin' plenty of crap gimme ya sack
I'ma flip it to a penny and packs so, ho
Who really on track? My train never stops
Leavin' marks and scars on the
Mic, it's sizzlin' hot, ya dig?