Song picture
Ransom and brasco are wack (no intro)
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www.rapflava.com me vs ranson and brasco ( no intro)
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itz ya boy Ghat and Iceman
Song Info
Genre
Hip-Hop New School
Charts
Peak #11,648
Peak in subgenre #727
Author
Ghat smack
Rights
Brooklyn HoLLyWooD
Uploaded
July 07, 2003
Track Files
MP3
MP3 3.3 MB 128 kbps 0:00
Lyrics
im 2 quick 2 blaze these haters// raize the 8 up, till i could see thruw ya face like tracin paper// cuz they know i stay freein wit hotness// this the 1st time i put ransom in a box witout seein a hostage/// they know they not seein my hot shit// after i drop my shit, watch them cop a trip and flee 2 the tropicks/// leave u seein red like a beam 2 ya optics// cuz the only time they spit right, it involves semen and hot dicks// u cant beat me nigga realize// after i shoot up ya white tee you cant get the red out wit clear eyes// dont worry theres nothin 2 fear guys// accually yes there is// ill prolly re ajust ya wig// u cant touch the kid// so fuck ya click// if u dont like that im sorry kid, suck my dick// matta fact brasco wud do that shit// he the type 2 call ransom 2 his crib and fill his asshole wit lubricant// im 2 nice u cant hate this// fuck brosco, u sound like u where named after a pancake mix// and ya man aint shit, i aint heare shit from ya man// fuck a ransom, dick is prolly the 1st thing on ya list of demands// dont talk about clips, u know u dont burst none// dont make me have 2 be the one 2 show u ya first gun// u niggas is full of shit// if i show u ya first, it'll be ya last, i dont usually miss// and after u tasted a few of these clips// i slip some c's 2 the d's so they dont acuse me of shit// u niggas cant step 2 me// its like dubble vison, when u see ghat, theres always 2 ghats next 2 me// i cud tell u niggas fake in a glance// my toys, leave ya ass shakin, your toys shake in ya ass// u dont wanna see the kid clappin revolves// they call him ransom, cuz when he has sex theres a kidnapping involved// its commen when im poppen em// 2 see ransom on the floor gaspen for oxegen// my tracks is manotonous// blas em wit the glock or fift// im laughin no stoppin it// clappin, no options bitch// stop rappin u gotta quick cuz u cant come back wit some hotta shit// when it comes 2 skills u lackin alot of it// thats why im goin 2 the top and pushin u back 2 the bottom bitch// guns, im clappin alot of them// in a game u cant win, just go back 2 the lotto bitch// i leave u screamin wit no voices// its either u live or u die, and im takin away one of those choices// and u better not be scheemin 2 run// u think u see the light in the tunnel, its just the bullets leavin the gun// im makin u punks retire// cuz when im in the hood, i hittin more trees than drunken drivers// my car speakers, rattle ya hole house// u braggin about ya record but son, text battles dont count// if i see u dudes the tecks'll spit// im like a skitsofrenic, u really dont know who u messin wit// i know u kids aint really serious// i think u gon need a couple of tampoms, cuz im the illest, period// i got bullets, and im squeesen a couple// in a game where i cant be fucked wit sorta like jesuses mother// its 2 on one, i aint into the gang bang// why u think genius left, he was thinkin the same thang// in this rap game im a sentinal// brasco's like a terrorist every night he tucks ransom in his envelope// cuz i gotta merk these bitches in time// last time u spit as hot as me, dam i cant even finish this line// cuz u up against a vetran// dont make me have 2 break ya limbs and leave u in forcast like a wetherman// face it im better than both of u if u try ya best// thats why my flows cook more cats then chinese chefs//
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