Body Bags

(album: Banana Clips Vol. 2 - 2019)

[?]
Get ready, get set, it's steady
Bloody spaghetti shredded, heavy debted, credit deadly
For bread, you'll get jelly-spreaded
The melody let me let it go mentally
Lindsay at it, coke headless with envy
At Nicole Richie and Brittany's habit
Cass, alot of rappers seem militant and be itching addicts
Putting nothing but wood on the shelve like a kitchen cabinet
So if I feel the static, I'll peel a 'matic
They'll get the static, the calico sporatic bling!
Now it's not so radical!
We come to no compatible establishment, you broke nose
For tryna Mike Jones my O-Zone, be held embarassing
Shit, I'm geared as an Afghani terrorist, I pop this tool
When I'm tryna bring you hell and mariest
You take a risk of reading braille for even dare stare at this
You don't live M.O.B., you nothing but a queer therapist
Nigga my M.O. be get that money even O.T., no penalty
Bueno si, that deniro b, that's all I see mentally
I shift you go from manual to automatic physically
Chemistry can't infiltrate my ministry, we in the street, you industry
Larceny, militia, nigga march with us
If not cass, put em on some whole nother charts from us
Body bags!

[?]

My hand on my damn cock
Cause man I cop the gun so big it can prolly kill Hancock
I'm not a rat me talkin to the damn cops
Is like Luis Farrakhan eatin hamhacks
I'm a gorrilla but I'm slicker then a damn fox
Been cool since preschool playin in the sandbox
I'm a hustla, I used to hand to hand now I can
Stand on the block sellin gram after gram, ah
And no I'm not from japan, nah
But it just look like it's asian in me cause I keep the haze up in me
I been to jail I gotta couple hundred days up in me
But I still keep the h.k. keep the razor with me
I ball hard so other ballas is afraid to stick me
Cause if I get fouled I'll prolly shoot the tech
And you can be the next dude that I shoot to death
I wil' out but if I foul out I'll shoot the ref
I'm happy when I'm in the coupe but the roof depressed
Cause I always put em down the trunk where I put em now
I got dough ey since, o put a pound in my hand
I been the man you should put the crown on my dome
I'm on the phone havin conference calls
With millionaire's yeah look what I accomplished y'all
And I ain't tryna take a life I got a conscience y'all
Plus the law send you up north like a compass y'all
I was 17 livin up in yonkers y'all
Signed to ruff ryders with a flow that was bonkers y'all
I can't even lie you can ask d.n.y
You can ask swizz too, s.p. and kiss too
You can ask dmx, the female pit to
And they all let you you know all the battles I had to get through
You can ask drag or sheek bout how I had to eat
Thousands of motherfuckers up yup I had the streets
But ain't no money in battlin an I had to eat
I can spit wreckless but I had to make a hit record
An now I make hit record after hit record
And I make chicks get naked like bitch check it
I just lick my lips on some LL shit
And then I make em laugh on some David Chappelle shit
An they be on some let's go to the hotel shit
I give em hard dick on some just got out of jail shit
The innocent man, been in the can
But I never made a statement never been on the stand
And I'm independent now, but that been in the plans
Cause it's all about the benjamins man, real talk
And you dudes can't walk in my timberlands man
And my sneaks don't fit you
The streets don't fuck with you
I sip champagne and I throw back shots
And I smoke pot the color of a apple jacks box
I rap but I sold crack rock
And had the block jumpin like the frog on the honey smacks box
You dig em?
Body bags!