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Piñata
(专辑: Piñata - 2014)
[Verse 1: Domo Genesis] Live like 9-5, I
rhyme and come alive My grind divides fine through my divine eyes It's prime time, you wish you could buy time, but it's my time Thoughts against I, blasphemy, it's like a
vice crime I
roll 'em thick and I
ignite mines I
don't even get high, I
just get equally back in my right mind I'm getting lethal with these nice lines Creeping through your speakers Catch you sleeping like a
thief of in the
nighttime Young Doms, none of you niggas correspond, bitch Kick the
fuck out of the
track on some Jean-Claude shit Get the
fuck out of the
streets, nigga, I
bomb shit Shit ain't all good no more, y'all on your con shit The
fuck is your conscience? Testing me is nonsense The
whole city is mine, I'm the
best up in my conference Ain't feeling me, fine, ain't gotta listen to my shit You can hear about me from the
critics all on my dick [Verse 2: Freddie Gibbs] Bitch, I've been thugging since the
motherfucking Ten Speed Redbone on my handlebars, I
like my bitches mixed breeds Feel the
Philly tighten with a
20 sack of stress weed Educated, at the
stove I'm working recipes Reputation say I'm robbing just for recreation Revive my enemy with gun-to-mouth resuscitation Can't wait to this pussy nigga pay me, I'm impatient Let's go kick in their door and strip them naked, leave 'em stinking No witness, no weapon, my nigga, the
case is over The
reaper snatched 'em, closed casket, his family needs a
closure And Moses had ten commandments, Huey had ten points Won't see my homie for ten, dropped him off at the
joint Staring at my future in my rear-view Family cried some tears, I
got some years, it ain't no issue Mama with the
tissue Saw her breaking down, she just might cry a
river Murder one, she can't believe she raised that type of nigga [Verse 3: G-Wiz] I
tried to do right, but it only got your boy fucked in the
game So I
changed my mind, now I'm back on this grind Trying to get this change Niggas hate to see me getting it Travelling packs with a
red dot Boy, it ain't your knot, trying to get what you got When the
rain and the
pain gon' stop Standing on the
porch early, no shoes, selling blow in my socks And I
was watching for the
ghetto bird Ain't got no money for college So all I
know is how to sack and how to serve I
be damned if I
miss another lick for the
chips Got me stacking, almost splurging on weed, syrup and whips Niggas around my way be loving it I'm Cadillac'ing, blowing good alligators with the
belts to match I
got an ounce with an ounce to match, bust it down, get back Hopefully maybe get the
clique out the
trap I
need dough like a
bread baker (Amen) 24/7, got ready on the
turf, player All day [Verse 4: Casey Veggies] Make 'em hop in the
new coupe Niggas been winning, that ain't nothing new Forgive me for the
sinning that they be doing in this business Not using their words to express truth Out in the
streets with a
screw loose On the
Westside I
got the
juice Just tell me what you trying to do She loving the
crew and ain't fucking with you I
go where the
hood niggas get into it I
go where the
bad girls go shop Every window tinted but the
rooftop That money I'll just spend it to get you shot Can they be hating, they got no reason Right where they got me, the
place I
Delete 'em We kicking on weaklings just for all of their secrets I
can't believe the
shit that I'm seeing I'm hearing the
words, doing my reading, it's really absurd Not enough leaders, the
shit that they feed you, it's just what you eating They call me young Veggies, I
make it go green I
smash in all your teeth, the
fuck is you saying? You got the
candy's, the
niggas is spraying To get away and take over the
land, yeah [Verse 5: Sulaiman] My mind on capital, I'm not just rapping, dude I'm out to speak actual factual, watch how a
master moves You ball a
fist what that gon do I'm from a
city clapping fools You off the
tit and [?] lacking while watching me fashion stools Shitting styles, you never had a
hot line that I
didn't dial Little princes always trying to fit a
bigger crown But don't forget I
sit amidst some seasoned gents Them bitches knowing he a
pimp ain't even need to read the
blimp It was a
good day, good day to O'Shea A
death certificate for anyone who lay in my way You best revisit all the
tombstones that lay in my wake Me being knowledge, be honest You seen the
prophet get sacrificed by the
Ops It get ratchet when ratchets out and they firing Residue on pinata's, wonder what's up inside of 'em It's sure ain't no Vicodin cause it up and excited 'em But they ain't get high enough, if you ain't succeed, nigga Buy again then try again [Verse 6: Meechy Darko] It's the
irrational type of nigga, the
John Madden tackle you Steal your car keys and crash your coupe in the
botanical Wrap you with shackles, tangle you, pull from ever angle, dismantle you Watch your blood mixed with mud and stain the
gravel too Grab and shoot, rib cage open like a
parachute Close range, Swiss blade, poke 'em if it's personal Blood stains, gold fangs, mask on, no traits Murder one, closed case, stolen whip, no plates Half a
body in the
trunk, go to prison, no way Speed off the
Brooklyn bridge before I
catch a
cold case Realize I'm the
voice for those who do not have a
voice So I
voice my fucking voice, I
don't have a
fucking choice Cold blooded, leave some niggas, well I
hope you got insurance Shotgun and shorty lift 'em like the
potent in my joint Barrels smoking like Red Auerbach Still can't believe I'm getting fed on rap I
don't know what's louder, the
pack or the
gat [Verse 7: Mac Miller] My endorphins are morphing, absorbing energy Original copy, A
Tale of Two Cities gets read to me Reading Emerson novels eating some Belgian waffles Some powder go up my nostrils, my dick going down her tonsils What's up? Play with an abacus, I've been stressing like Catholics That's the
shit, a
bit of that happiness in my cup This generation corrupt, these people brainwashed with evil My music is more cerebral, exploring just what you need to So this your Exodus, church of the
Methodist Beating up the
pussy, have her screaming like a
exorcist Absorb it through your pores, the
Lord with horns, a
world war Whores are more hors d'oeuvre when it's a
world tour O'Doyle Rules
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