Kunci: C minor•
Verse 1
Cm
Bb
I'll be shutting niggas up when I talk
Ab
But nothing's ever gonna get done to me
Cm
You ain't gon' do nothing at all
Bb
I'ma be talking shit forever,
Cm
man, ever, man, ever, man
Bb
Shut the fuck up when I talk
Ab
But nothing's ever gonna get done to me
Cm
You ain't gon' do nothing at all
Bb
I'll talk about your ass forever,
Fm
Cm
man, ever, man, ever, man
Last name Voorhees, first name Jason
Like a loaded pistol, boy,
I ain't nothin' to play with
You don't want no problems,
that drama be too horrendous
Fuck you and your feelings,
your mama the who offended
Pimpin' ain't easy, but bitch,
I'm in the building
I'm the smack man,
I got a backhand like Serena Williams
He hungry like them Africans
on the TV askin'
Feed the children even though
he be eatin' like he's Sicilian
I sweat brilliance, I shit genius
You on fire till I come by
you and extinguish
I'm distinguished,
I'm bout to quit writing
You bout to grow a set of hooters
while a n***a just wingin'
My dick swingin', it's slappin' my leg
so much the shit stingin'
You heard who better than me,
bitch, bring up, uh
He still pops like Rocky,
he'll probably be finished
He'll go from lookin' like he
Balboa to Rocky Dennis
You thought you was winnin',
till every tooth in your mouth
Bb
is in the pouch in your pocket
The next time you talk to your dentist,
they bodies is endless
Cm
Get in my lane, they license to kill
Cm
I'm fly, feelin' like I got wings
and I'm in the air
Bb
I miss my flight, tell a pilot
I said I'll meet you there
Abm
Ab
it should be a sign on every vocal booth
Cm
This is of nickel -nine,
choose to do your beat
Bb
Cm
Ab
Cm
Beware, beware, beware,
Ab
beware, beware, beware
Cm
Last name pay me, first name fuck you
Bb
Cm
You collect and call me by my alias,
it's what loot
Find me with your bitch,
my dick out with a mouth on it
Take around the corner couple times,
OG's that used to be slaves for Reagan
That helped him fund the Iran -Contra,
poster boy for gun rap
I got all kind of rhymes done
about my guns cousin
Cause I got tons of them,
I ain't no industry nigga
I don't do no events,
I got some red carpet
That's under my shoes in the bins
He's so street, when he do it,
the sewers is twin
He spit that shit,
he should spit it in two with the pen
When it come to rhymin', I'm a Ducati,
your dude is a Schwinn
I don't do parties in you, you just do men
My crew just too sick,
your crew got poop or scoop dicks
My crew just drink and do chicks, nigga,
y 'all ain't gon' do shit
Slaughterhouse dynamic,
Ab
his Ortiz too mature for beef
Cm
Ab
Joey kill you with his words,
me, I do it forcefully
Cm
Crooked, it's a smart one,
but don't you get it twisted
That nigga there, he will kill ya,
I've been to see how he livin'
Ab
Cm
When I brainstorm, actual rain comes
Bb
I am one with the streets, I Sam Cookes
The beat until change comes
Ab
My brain got different compartments
Cm
One that holds the psy chosis
One that holds the explosives
One just gotta know that it
descends on it
Homie knows that he dope
Bb
He stay on his toes, he ferocious
It's hopeless to focus on me
You'll only lose your focus
Cm
I am not the best, I am death
Bb
And I let God and Satan iron out the rest
Ha ha ha ha, that's the victory laugh,
Ab
Cm
ha ha ha ha, ha ha ha ha
And since I can't do another nigga beat,
without y 'all thinkin'
I'm dissin' him
Shoutout my nigga Drake
Now get the fuck out my face
before I fuck you up
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