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feat. Guilty Simpson, Random Axe & Sean Price
Produced By: Black Milk
[Verse 1: Black Milk]
Random, random, push till they fall back
Grabbing the ball back, while Iâm grabbinâ the hard hat
Hard act to follow, we the hard pill to swallow
You cotton that sit in an aspirin bottle
Random Axe smash the throttle, grew up whereâs ice cold
Where niggas gamble with their life like a dice bowl
This ainât a light show, but you see them red blues
Flashinâ on the tittie screen, Channel 7 news
Where those lil dudes reach for rugers
Never surf the internet, never own computers
You know the name, donât know the face, then he the mover
Whoeverâs quietest in the room, then he the shooter
The old heads donât understand, askinâ how come?
We donât think like Martin, Malcolm was the outcome
Any means nece-ssary yeah, where Iâm from
While I had pops, most grew up without one
All they had was drugs, where the street wars met
Walkinâ out everyday, with the Devil on yo doorstep
Sittinâ on your porch in the post
This the city limit, where you see they have no remorse at
[Hook]
Itâs gone, gone, outta the slum
Bang bang put it in the air
Bang bang, feel it over here, over there
Bang bang, donât nobody care what you had
[Bridge]
Meanwhile, we find Sean P on the ? rolling a spliff
Fuck is on his mind?
[Verse 2: Sean P]
Four fifth for your face
And yo faculty fuck boys, forfeit in your face
Shittinâ, watchinâ, you sittinâ on grapes
Pre-payed, premeditated and murdered the aim, P!
Achinâ yo kimfolks, a.k.a. the ape in the window
A trafficking ?
A Budweiser African king poster
Iâm doinâ my damn thing
Them niggas claim king but ainât doinâ a damn thing
Thatâs my word to my moms
I neva heard no one of ya songs: âFuck outta here!â
And I donât dislike you
I disliked the dude that said I disliked you
Wrong kiss, wrong fist, bitch, goodbye
Canât fuck with P, new fish to fry, P!
[Interlude]
Time like here, I wasnât playing
This not for declaration, ?
If they ainât there with me, they gotta come right
The got ? something
[Verse 3: Guilty Simpson]
Once again, itâs Mr. I-Am-Not-Yo-Friend
From the city where itâs commonly a tragic end
They mad again, squeezinâ what they hold to leave a hole in you
Half ass niggas are half again
Mashinâ it, American shit, keep yo foreign cars
They still like they war and odds
They got help waitinâ
Two pretty heaters, they named âem both: Dropper-Dead-Gorgeous and Breath-Takinâ
Youâd rather check Satan, inhale while he inhales powder
Softwhite, they put it down in the lab like Walt White
Soft fights is what they give em
Talkinâ workinâ on their off nights
The barâs tight, they sendinâ nears off on sight, overnight
The fairput cats on your overbite
Sweetcats, I know your life
Burbon cats, I know your wife
Poet night, shake a house, no Poltergeist
Takinâ flicks and yo stolen nights, the clipâs rollinâ right
Paper chasinâ with this door in sight
Takinâ ten kingpins out, they ballinâ stripes
Show you right where they buried, right and they smoked his pipe
Itâs medicin through a cobraâs bite
I hold the mic with the real concern in the facts
Wait no more, return to the acts
Return fire
Earn a writer when I burn a squire
Self employed, the murder higher
- Album:
- Glitches in the Break
- Synth or Soul
- No Poison, No Paradise
- Random Axe
- Miscellaneous
- Brain (Single)
- Tronic
- Ultrawide
- Album Of The Year
- For 4Ever
- Third Man Live: 4 - 8 - 2011
- Beauty in Darkness, Volume 7
- VISIONS: All Areas, Volume 6
- Alternative Moments V
- Viva Hits 23
- Schattenreich, Volume 1
- Bravo Hits 44
- Crossing All Over! Volume 16
- Popular Demand Instrumentals / Broken Wax Instrumentals
- Popular Demand