URLtv, Conceited, Tsu Surf - Conceited vs Tsu Surf lyrics

Why would anybody think he blue flagging
Knowing that this kid's a fraud?
There's not a nigga in here
That think your lines real
Like a fishing rod
If it's beef I'll bring the sticks
Like a shish kebab why would anyone think he
Really Crippin' for?
If he threw up Neighborhood in
That neighborhood that Nipsey's on
Like Forest Gump he'll start running
And he won't be Crip no more
And for that one reason
I'll never believe that you pop up chrome
‘Cause we all saw when it
Comes down to the proof
That you leave your shotgun home
Nigga, you got some nerve
Making these people think you put
In a lot of work
And let that llama squirt, well


I'll show you
That I don't need a boogie board
For me to body Surf
This nigga name is Rayjon Cox
Rayjon… Rajon… Cox
That's not a punch line, that's real facts
I ain't playing games
You know it's fucked up when
You gotta say pause
Every time you say your name
Just think, if he played ball
And it was clutch time to put a shot in, and
Then the coach said, "Time
Out! Come on, guys, we gotta put Cox in"
Or what about if he's home sleeping
And his niggas on the block's tough
And Suge's is like, "Hold on, y'all
Let me go get my nigga Cox up"
With that gay ass name
Y'all believe in this faggot ho?
And really think he be scrapping though?
I swear the only nigga that ever
Seen Cox fighting is Calicoe
But let me guess
You'll really let me have it though
When it's time, ‘cause you Crip you
Gonna have your niggas jump me
Get a couple of black guys?
Slow it down! I just dissed you! I said
Have your niggas jump me and get
A couple of black eyes
Nigga, how do you want it?
I can click it or jig it
Either way when I strike
Y'all gon' get this boy caught when I pick it
Nigga, when if we bring the fist in
If I said you know what time it is, you
Will get clocked in a second by our hands
And I meant it
Nigga, we could get it poppin', soon as I
Get two TEC's I'm coming out to Jersey
Like Dennis Rodman
Yo, Surf, we could take it there
Ain't no telling what I'd do
You gon' find out that I'm good with
The left and the right too
I'm the one who he's dreading here
So you better just always keep it wrapped
Like Erykah Badu
Surf, how did you get outta jail
Twice so fast for gun charges?
That's ‘cause this nigga was ratting
You are an informant, the worst type nigga
I hate snitches with my soul
You deserve to die, nigga
‘Cause you tell Jersey police
Who's wearing the blue and red
Who'll shoot the lead to get 'em locked down
With the ball and chain, like a newlywed
Just to get appeal
Anything on his chest he'll cough it up
That's how we know that Tsu the feds
Nigga, I wish you were dead
Your niggas behind you make it worse
I wouldn't say you official if
They gave you a whistle
I should leave y'all brains on a rug, rat
When I raise that Tommy, like Stewie Pickles
That especially goes to this rat
That talks to the boys, like Stewart Little
Nigga, you give out more
Statements than Mastercards
These are proven facts
You make real niggas lose all
Hope when you doin' that
See, that's just like Master Splinter
I mean, and we all remember that sewer rat
Slow it down! I just dissed you!
I said we all remember that Tsu a rat
You gambling with your life
You better roll out when them deuces clap
Looking at me with them snake eyes
You gonna see a couple die
When I'm shooting craps
Tsunami's looking shaky, baby!
Where'd you get that subtitle shit from Surf?
Daddy, pussy! Your whole block done told you
You are my son, I should scold you
And you stealing will only make somebody
Like me pop this on you
Slow it down! I just dissed you! I said, you
Stealing will only make somebody
Like me, Pops, disown you
You see, that's the problem with this bum
He took SONS whole shit and
Just evolved it into one
That's why your whole battle style
Is like Father's Day
‘Cause all your presence
You got it from a SON
But he don't even do it right
Ain't nobody gonna fear him
It's a good thing you put
Those rhymes in subtitles
‘Cause nobody wanna hear them
This nigga's lying to this day
Acting like subtitles ain't the same, that's
Why he named himself Surf
Because he riding a nigga wave
Slow it down and subtitles
That shit is more than a slight stretch
You bit my style, you bit my bars
And now you getting your mic checked
Nigga, you scared of SON
So we know you just like a vampire: we
Know it's something you gon' bite next
Nigga, I light TEC's and I'm bucking 'em
I ain't staring hard when I
Say that I'm mugging him two pistols
Silencers on when I'm dumping 'em
I know you fear a Con, that's a lie
If you think you could run after I muzzle 'em
So, Smack, you gave me a nigga
That chokes in ciphers when
He spittin' rhymes
How's he supposed to be the champ
And give me the shoe when
He can't even finish lines?
Everything you drop is garbage
You should get "elitified"
So before you do your rounds saying
How you grip the 9
And you so real with those Crippin' lines
Remember, in order for you to
Be on Real Nigga Time
You first have to a be a real nigga time!

Look in my eyes, Con
I hope you can see that G in me you right
I wasn't in Detroit with that shotgun
But, I did have that D with me
But first off, for me even taking this shit
Nah, I'm lying, you deserve this
But, I brought my lucky Eagle
Guess who's standing under the bird shit
No, I told Smack book Surf
And Con for the competition
I write that perfect composition
To sleep him in a calm position
Now, what you trap in? Spikes?
What you put work in? Louis?
Something leads me to believe
You the family guy, stewie
But we in this bitch
I could feel that 40 liquor in both legs
And I ain't got chasers after the shots
Fuck I need to put it
In subtitles or somethin'?
He with his bitch
I let that 40 lick her in both legs
So I don't gotta chase her after the shots
Real recognize real
I could see if he tough in his eyes
Nothing can save you from these things
Nothing but God this shit heavy
I gotta lift it up from the side
I give 'em all fives
Like I'm getting up with the guys
Say something stupid, I wish you would, nigga
We could go swing for swing if you could
Nigga what you 'bout to say, Jersey
Lost to Nets? Good, nigga
The best shooters still in my hood, nigga
Come on, tell me how your SIG's burst
How you'll get me from rhymes
Dealt with two 9's
About that big one shot pump
That'll fold like a futon
Before you get the fronting 'bout how
You real and do crime
This is nothing like Detroit
You can spare us with them Tsu lines
But, you know what?
I believe you would surf… in Frank's ocean
You some old cat leather blouse type
Unbutton with your tank showin'
I could be hospitable and hospital you
Get him a bed then
So even if you are a G three'll
Leave you layin' in with red skin
O said, "What you think they gon' find?"
I said, "Whatever them cops can take"
Suge said, "They all out of MAC's"
I said "Whatever, then cop the TEC"
Check, real rap, Smack said Con
Wanna rap, I'm like, "Why?"
I mean, he's Con but, shit, I'm I
And that's blasphemy
But if the bread might hit my line
And y'all gonna watch me nail your dog
Backwards to a cross, like God
You ain't gotta ask where I'm from – Jersey
Bitch! And all those bullshit stories
You probably got it from that Jersey bitch
Am I mad? Hell nah, that's Jersey shit
I took everything
They ain't never gave Jersey shit
Lesson 1: you can't be mad if bitches tell
It happens a lot
I keep a heavy trigger finger
So I clack 'til it stop
And if I gotta let it go
Then I'ma clap 'til he drop
POW! I felt like Kobe how word got back to
The block after the shots… Pau, Kobe, Howard
Back to the block
You see my angle, that 40 got a big nose
I introduce you to the triangle
They said you was a puncher
You look more like a
Speed bag Slow it down! I
Just dissed you! Aye, goodz
That's how you know a SON
With the Lakers Steve Nash
I mean, I could have a bad impression of you
Correct me if I speak wrong
So basically I ain't got time
For your kid games
You wanna jump? Go ahead and leap, frog!
Even if y'all did have that
Work in the kitchen, we cook better
Another SON, well
Welcome to the Twilight new moon
You fucking with some wolfs, Bella
A few dineros and the lil' homies'll
Treat him like a Goodfella
It's about being great, the best
Never taking shorts, it ain't hard to ball
How the fuck they get in
The club? Who carding y'all?
And that nigga from St louis
I would pull his card an all
But nah, we don't mention lames
‘Cause we were silencer subtweeting
With them birds
Way before them Twitter games
I mean, your friends look like tough guys
I would hope they wouldn't let
Us jump the man
See, I wouldn't even shoot him
Just give him that headbutt
They won't ever lend another hand
Brother man, brother man
You in some deep shit
‘Cause, I ain't even done yet, peep this
Sittin' in the bushes, he don't know
He gettin' snaked on Sawed-off Mossberg
K Shine face on
X-Factor hat, no big T, he getting staked on
Bunch of steel clacking
Like I'm tryin' to put weights on
Boom! You look like a different nigga
From the one that I was tweetin' actually
You don't even look like the type
Of nigga I'd beef with
Seem pretty fresh, bitches like you
Why would I wanna kill y'all?
Nah, you that nigga I save, like, "Yo, chill
Y'all!"
And so what if I'm whooping your ass
Bitch? Fight back! Other option a gun or run
But that 9'll peel
Like it's tryin' to get it's life back
Ask about me, I be roamin' for the pasta
They'll find you in an alley
Way moanin' for a doctor
Pull up on him on the freeway
Stolen in a Honda
Long arms, Dhalslm flippin' over the divider
Fuck, y'all waiting for that subtitle?
Long arms that'll send him
Flippin' over the divider
What's your confession, Usher?
That you not really a midget?
Well, we Chris Brown bitches
This could be your last weekend
One push of a digit
This ain't Love and Hip-Hop
I doubt that K miss shells when it's spittin'
But, you, Trey Songz
He gon' wish he never did it
Catch him coming down the stairs
I tell the homie, like, "Shhh! Shhh!"
Think it's a game 'til you are
In the middle of that ch-ch
See, I'm way to advanced for
These niggas and it hurt
Like that last bar for instance
You are in the middle of
That ch-ch that's "church"

How are you from Newark, New Jersey?
The place that never been scared
But, you rep Rollin 60's, a Los Angeles gang
And you've never been there
Alright, who created it? Who formed it?
When was it started? Who's
The Eight Tray Gangsters?
None of them questions he can answer neither
I bet if you if y'all ask him
"What is a Hoover?"
He'll probably tell you it's a vacuum cleaner
But for some reason that's the
Shit he gon' stay claimin'
Knowing damn well in jail you was Clay Aiken
Used to drop the soap on purpose
To say he be gang bangin'
They was like, "Look at Surf
This dirty but pretty ass nigga"
You came home
Suge put you under his titties ass nigga
That really fat
You really black iffy ass nigga
Boy, in the hood I heard
Shotgun popped and killed
You from the back you a Ricky ass nigga
Now, a lot of y'all
Is like, "C'mon, Conceited, stop the lying!"
But, it's the truth, his name shows you
That Rayjon will always have Cox behind him
Nigga, I'll cock the iron and dump it
Let a nigga test, if I go to the chambers
Cases drop, now I'ma show him justice
I'ma make 'em all rise
When I squeeze it off, you'll leak for sure
You better bail, if I see jewelry it'll peel
I bang hammers like a judge
And one try will get your peoples caught
I let the heaters torch and send
Him to Hell with blammers
I slide shells in hammers
And he can catch the steel
Like surveillance cameras
Now, he has been in cells and stammers
You even held your own, nigga
Heard you got a couple strikes
In the pen, you bold, nigga
Nah, if he got a couple strikes
And a pin, you bowled, nigga
Surf, you not a loc, nigga
That's why he's fuckin' scared
It'll go bad if you don't put a lid on it
Like Tupperware nigga, these clips I got is
Not for cuttin' hair that hammer bang
Anywhere you at I'm buckin' there
You better stop all that false
Crippin' up in here soon as I see that flag
I'm picking up that big nose
Like double dare
Now everybody open up your ears
And hear how the story
Go For us to see that you not poppin'
You ain't gotta be on the Maury Show
I open rounds just for the
Cream that's an Oreo
And that shit'll put Cox through the wall
Like the glory hole
And if you with your bitch you
Oughta tell your shorty go
And you also better leave, brah
‘Cause, I gotta Taurus, and with this can
Sir
I will cap a corn and give your whore a scope
Now, this shit must be all a joke
You got ten people at your shows
You call that tourin'?
You said you retired from this
Bullshit and now you back?
Okay, he think he Jordan
Without me you wouldn't sell nothing
You battled Big T and it
Was like ten people applaudin'
Well, why couldn't Rayjon sell tix if
He's such a boss then?
I walk in the house and let that 40 smoke him
Catch him while he's home alone
And let it clap on his face
Like Macaulay Culkin
Surf, you joking, nigga, you ain't Loc'in
Nigga
Only blue C's you know about is that ocean
Nigga now, Joe Budden, my nigga
At least that's what I thought
But now he's guilty on many accounts
This nigga be recording
Our phone conversations
Now you let a snitch stay in your house?
You should be ashamed, no doubt
Why do you feel you have to be fam with a rat
Just because your name is Mouse?
And this nigga wrote Surf all
Bars for this battle
That's why BK stay killing y'all
I mean, I beat the shit outta Ars'
And then Math did it
I would say I beat Joe Budden girl
But Fab did it
Damn right, you heard me, nigga
So how could Surf murk me, nigga?
When me and the NBA just showed y'all
That Brooklyn owns y'all Jersey niggas
But, I do see the loyalty there
But it's none of it in this faggot
In Cali you said Joe Budden is trash
An attention whore
And Jersey don't fucking need him
Then you said like no other
You and Ars' are brothers
But then you turned your back on him
To Joe for a couple of features?
Well, in the streets if your brother
Don't fuck with a nigga
You don't fuck with him either
Everything about you is questionable
Your loyalty, the gang you repped
What set you from the big home Ray Swag set
Trips in front of you
But, you show him extra love
My nigga Cortez disrespected a blue flag
In front of your face
And took out a red one
But you ain't get reckless, cuz
It's well known Hitman bang them big B's
But when he's around you stay getting thugged
So that shows he's the one
That's really Manny Pacquiao
‘Cause he always scared to test a blood
All that fake bangin' shit, nigga
You did enough
I'll put your seed in the dirt
See if it make a sun flower
Oh, she like make-up?
Well, this MAC could give her
Face some gun powder
Like, get your punk ass daddy from here
That nigga will get wet no sun shower
I swear I'll snatch up Tsu young
If he try to rush ours
I'm loading up them Parrots
Until my hand numb and that shit will pop
Pop without a grandson
Everything you say is make up that's Lancome
I'm the type to reach for the handgun
‘Cause, I be quick to get foul and buck it
Like an And 1
Nigga, name one hot bar he's gotten off
I'll wax him like a cotton swab
Y'all see him get served over the net
Like a volleyball
Flash them beads and I'm showing two cans
Like Mardi
Gras Them gats shoot, and they will cap Tsu
Like Tylenol
Bullets are going into your temple
Like the Taj Mahal
I lift pounds, spit rounds
Take him down Chris Brown
You need to stop with that bitch sound
‘Cause only a bitch will lock
Pick a door Iike "errrr"
Real niggas will shoot that shit down
This nigga could never show
His face in Detroit
‘cause Proof's mans, they will melt you
With cannons and hecklers
I swear they would cook you
If they saw your face in the glove
Like Hamburger Helper

I come at your whole crew neck
I make you bitches look hood
I guess Joe Budden rubbed off
I make all you bitches look good
But pause, pause, timeout, timeout
You had your dick, pause, on the back
Pause, of another man's head, pause
Which leads me to believe you'll
Get hit from the back
On another man's bed, pause
Now, aside from the bars for a second
I'm just tryin' to see where your brain at
You over 21, not a cheerleader
And had your legs wrapped around another
Grown man head… explain that!
You can't, so don't, that's gay
Who you fucking kiddin'?
If your naked face had a mustache
I'd punch you in it
And fuck your swag, pussy!
We don't do it for no mothafuckin' Louie hats
‘Cause, I been to a place where
Ain't no mothafuckin' Louie at
And those same OG's that taught me
"Never change when you winning
" said just ‘cause he look like he get
It don't mean that he got it
The ones that usually have it
You never really could spot it
And the ones that flash ain't got enough
Or they dumb so they don't hide it
Question, if all y'all money on your outfit
Then what the fuck is in your pocket?
Oh, you cool ‘cause you dress for the awards?
What, you want an Oscar? Let's
Play swear to God
Swear to God on your mother
You wasn't battling and working
At Red Lobster
Exactly, so I don't wanna hear about
How you spray and clap the mags
But, I just might believe you if you say you
Cracked the crab These fans
Think everybody real
And everybody giving out coffins
NOT! What these fans don't
Know is Reggie here
Is from Miami with the Dolphins
Tell 'em, Reginald! Don't worry, I'I I do it
I was getting ready for this lesson
I started stretchin', started lookin'
Searched your name on YouTube
And noticed all your battles
Your hometown said "Brooklyn"
Now, when I think of hometown I think: caught
My first charge, got my first pussy
Bought my first tool there
Not your family visit the city
You move in the summers or moved there
We trap, we hang, we bang
Skipped a few classes, but safe to say
We went to school there Now
I wonder which Brooklyn hood
Gon' admit Con had his heat blowing
Where your tool at? Where you
Went to school at?
Tilden, Wingate, Prospect Heights
James Madison – should I keep going?
Boys and Girls, Canarsie, Sheepshead Bay
Midwood you ain't from no fucking New York
What's wrong with Miami if you live good?
And you ain't even from no fucking Miami
You from Pembroke Pines, that's a 20
30-minute drive what good is bars on top of
Bars if your foundation is lies?
You went to Charles Flanagan High, Reginald
Accept it a real man once told me
"Once your card gets pulled
Your hands is what you left with"
You know nothing about what you rap about
That is not G
And that hater that told you about me
That is not me
Why you paying so much attention to
A life that's not free?
I don't glorify shit
‘cause if I ain't get them they'd a got me
You went to war with Bricks
Heartless and Fox
That ain't real clever… Just
Like a conceited bitch
Hang around a bunch of corny
Bitches to feel better
So I don't wanna hear about
How you spray and dump the heat
‘Cause real niggas know
You only as real as the company you keep
But this the nigga I'm supposed to fear?
Can't even look over my shoulder clear
You look like a runner, lift your chin up
Hold it there you mortal? Well, if Con bat
I'ma let that Scorpion scream
"Get over here!"
But, you from Brooklyn, right?
Well, I got some niggas
That's notorious for work
They lil' me's Y'all better pray he got faith
Or sir rock a vest
Puffy enough he won't feel these
Keep it moving that's Kim
One call and he will bleed
My lil' Crips off real shit
That could be a big death from them lil' C's

So, you stole my subtitles from me, Surf
Is the name flip next? You gonna move on?
See, if I was you I would've
Said "I keep that tool on
And y'all would thought I was Kemba Walker
The way I keep shooting at you, Con"
But, you not nice like that
Imagine Surf tryin' to clap them hammers
When that fire ring, you ain't getting up
From the dirt you ain't Captain Planet
If what I grip starts to click
Like Adam Sandler
Then that pump can light up
Like a jack o' lantern
See, now I know the sound of it is bad
But, I also got a meter
That'll get you around, like a cab
Go ahead, try to run, you gon' hear "Pow!
Pow!" from the mag See, that's that bull
I don't know what you heard
If it's beef this cat'll put
The cal to your calf
Now that I'm mad I'm ending this shit
Behind bars you can get your
Mug-shot that's a criminal pic
Mr rayjon Cox, you're not really a Crip
You an actor, you need to get in a flick
You don't get props from the set, you need to
Stick to the script your
Life's a movie theater, cinema clip
I said "Your life's a movie
The 8 will send him a clip!"
I put dick in your bitch
She got that awesome puss
I made her cream, like Abdul-Jabber
So when I scored it was off the hook
She was like, "Damn, Conceited! Thank you
Pa!" then I put my tip in her mug
Like a thank you jar
I cannot believe this nigga wifed it
I take her to the military when I pipe it
I don't know what he offers her
But she'll get the semen
If it's about face I command her
To get on a private
Now we all know I can dead him
And spit at him like a drill
Sergeant in a few minutes
Go in his pockets and General
You getting capped in if it's
Major loot in it
That 5 air you can die here
Like a beautician
And your man can die hard too
Like Bruce Willis
Nigga, you don't use triggers when
You look for noise
Said he had the lion with the long nose
Like Pinocchio, you wouldn't, boy
But, you will get clapped good
Tryin' to act hood
Ayo, fat Suge! It's a wrap for your bud
Like Backwoods
That's how you know I'm a split his guts
He getting loud I mean is
This what you really want?
Since he think he a OG we'd roll up
Spark the clip and smoke you roaches even if
You get a little blunt
Now these niggas already know how
We'll give it up
See, Suge is cool, but I know real 60's and
This nigga's not one So if it's beef after
Don't worry
We'll still get along, Shotgun… Nah
Fuck that! I said "If it's beef after
We'll still get a long shotgun!"
Fuck that fat faggot, you a bitch too!
And just cause your little dog a bitch
Does not mean you the shit, Tsu
Now, I'ma tell y'all the quick truth
Somebody told me Surf has an STD
I swear that shit was news to even me
I got a bitch in Amboy, New Jersey
She has a little sister and she's a teen
She said "Surf went out with my best friend
Then tried to sleep with me"
But after they had sex that girl was on fire
Like Alicia Keys so I'm like "Damn!
You tryin' to give everyone those diseases
Fam?!" i heard you eat out the box
Like a slice of pizza, and
He's tryna have the whole Jersey burnin'
Like a Cleveland fan
Now I know that shit just got him mad
Isn't it ironic, a Crip that got some crabs?
Nigga, why don't you just be like Usher
Tell us a confession
You got caught up and you let it
Burn and you got it bad
Now I know that shit got him sad
‘Cause after this
Why will any chick let him pipe still?
Y'all better watch out
This nigga will give you
Disease faster than NyQuil
Now, why did you deal with that same bitch
That gave K Shine something in his mouth?
And you still went and get your lick on Asia?
Tsu, she roll with crabs and you
Still ate her fish roll
I said Asia sushi roll with crabs and
He still ate her fish roll
Now sit the fuck down, pussy
Daddy's got business to handle
Hey, Thunder boy KD
This nigga talking shit on Twitter
His mind must be crazy gone
I swear I run into any crib
He might even maybe own
And y'all will think I'm Tom Cruise
The way I'm dumping KD homes
I'll ride at that house, like Neverland Ranch
Surf bitch want me to wife
Her and get her band
But that's never the chance
After she get blown out I'm
Deading them plans you'll
See her crying when she don't get a ring
Like Kevin Durant
Get back over here, pussy, Daddy's finished
You will not clack the
Blicker or use hecklers
If you did I would snap back caps on him
Like New Era
He think I won't 'til that steel'll show
Like a bootlegger
Try to play, boy, and I'll put the jammies
On him, like Hugh Hefner
Nigga, if you knew better, you'd do better
You got on green pockets for moving green
Partner? If I see him with the nicks
He'll be napping on the spot
Like Rasheed Wallace
You damn right I squeeze llamas
But, I won't let the pound touch you
After you get the two TEC's
I'm bringing the subs out
Like they in foul trouble
But just imagine if I clap It, I blame ish
Now think of Proactiv
Or I could make it clear as hell
This black head better break out
‘cause this boy will pop, that's it
Get it, that's it, that zit, scratch it
The way my bars over head
I should be in gymnastics
If I pack it, let that Glock explode
You'll think he has a foot problem
I'll make sure the cal is
On his corn & the hammers
Will take out your soul
You'll see defeat and he'll be in
Pain until a doctor shows
Yeah, I lock and load hollows in the 38
That heat will dead you I'm
Just like a waiter soon as I show him the
Special he'll see a menu
Slow it down! I just dissed you!
I said: "Soon as I show him the
Special we'll see 'em in you"
Slow it down some more!
I said: "Soon as I show him the
Special we'll see 'em end you"
Slow it down once more!
Show him the special we'll see him and you!"
I swear that shit will get mad real
When you see these caps
Peel they ain't Advils
It can be 10 of you niggas, I'll clap steel
And still cap at all ten I see
Like Nashville
Surf, you fucking with that white girl
That must be jungle fever You softer
With nicks than Cousin Skeeter
Nigga, you could be a block away, 100 meters
And I'll still buck it from afar
Like a buzzer beater
So you need to stop stealing my
Style with all that chit chat
I'm feeling like OJ simpson
I had to but him behind bars
To get my own shit back

We gon' call this one a doobie
That's a wrap for you bitches
I can swear on my daughter
I never burned a chick
But, I could swear on my mother
I clapped a few bitches
Like everything you say is for laughs
First you said I had a burning chick, then
You said I had crabs But anyways
They usually say I'm known for my seconds
In a minute our confrontation will be done
Yo, bring that hearse round
Y'all gassed ‘cause he slowing down lines?
Nigga, you could slow my whole verse down
I can't front
This little corny act killing me
A big MAC and two 9's
I could order that literally
Throwing bullets like it's my job
I know the quarterbacks feeling me
These two 9's start flipping
Shit around the room
I call these a pair of normal activities
You said you had a gun
Sean Bradley size… pipe down!
I only hit his head and shoulders
He'll get skyped down catch him close range
Then his stomachs shot right now
After five I leave a
Stapled center Mike Brown
Lil' niggas like you, where I'm from
Get hemmed up
He battled Tall T and said he'll
"Pass the Glock to Fox…" and then what?!
Let me get a little closer
Y'all hear me know? Good
You get more than clothes if I
Gotta put these hand me's down
I'll wreck to his crib
I don't care if his mom there
Camping outside
I wonder if she got the new LeBron's there
One address and them Goonies gonna bomb there
I tell 'em let that fir nickel her cage
But, it's face off if Con there
Speaking of your mother
What that bitch was sniffing when she
Had you? It must be grams
I'm Jonesin to snatch them Juelz
I must be Cam'
I ain't strapped, but my homie is
And once he blam they gon' find you, Con
On a shirt shout out to Husky fans
This nigga high as a kite
Thinking he could pass me
I guess Drake ain't the only
One high off the grass, see
Got malt liquor for soft niggas
That's a 40 and start pouring on you
And with all them tats
You should be used to niggas drawing on you
I mean, the last dude was kinda cool
But his swag lame
Painted a cool picture with a bad frame
I really said no
All the way until the cash came
Judge screamed, "Why'd you shoot Brix?"
I responded, "I had a bad game"
These next few bars
Just something that I gotta do
‘Cause a lot of these fake
Niggas would never bother to
Shine, Ill, X, T, D
Wins, debatables, bodies, i got a few
But one thing they all had is why I
Never bothered you Heartless gave you breath
QP fathered you
I'm sick and fucking tired of
These so called leader cats
You really not nice
Your image is why you lead your pack
I mean, let's be real
Who else would you run behind?
Brixx? Fox? That's fucking buffoonery
This bullshit stops
You on a team with Brixx and Fox!
Half theses niggas laughing and
Half these niggas lost
He half the human height so I
Pay half to get him off
I seen his shoes, his pants, his shirt
What, you wanna get interviewed for Smack?
Oh, y'all waiting for that subtitle?
I seen his shoes his pants, his shirt
He got in the view and smacked