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MP3 4.2 MB • 128 kbps • 4:37
Lyrics
So far ahead of ya time, you need some binoculars
Ya chick hot, then im more then likely rockin her
We from the south, we used to high temperature
Shit wasnt even hot enough to break a sweat for
Double your skill, send two, we send four at you
you send eight, we send sixteens, the end of you
I just need to getting more head, like a top hat
Top that, ill rock that, you fighter? then ill pop fags
Truth, we know you be bending it like metal workers
Cold hearted, ya chick a snitch? Sendin lead at her
The best with sixteen, and I aint even ate two dudes
No Homo, im talking to gay dudes, yes you dude
You aint balling, your rims are sixteens like me
But im spitting sweet sixteens for sweet sixteens
Please somebody, tell him he shouldnt fuck wit me
Biggest dude in prison, so really really, aint nobody
Third is the man/ who will leave you under fam
you a bitch like ju wanna man/you understand?
Get help, I'll take your pills/ have ya medicate
So get it straight/ before I have ta wet ya face
You not wack/You motherfuckers just hot trash
So I will have your head on my table bought fag
My flow is outrageous/ you dudes is just basic
So that subliminal you wrote down/ dont say it
Third the truth/ Chicks wet when im in a booth
You said you a baller, but yo ass is on a stoop
Go ahead and throw your little bullshit ones and twos
You're still under third eye/Find something new
Switch style every track/ Cause you always bite it
Not mad at you/ Third eye is deffenitaly the nicest
With no gang affiliation/ we're still the latin kings
Hip Hop is Dead? Im handing it back to statik kid
i aint see no dudes that can compete
as an elite i give out a certain death if u cheat
represent yaself show me maturity
shovelin earth ontop of ur coffin i got dirt on he
no rumors real talk when i spit
girls love to live large so its home when there on my dick
what u call hot is okay at best
as the rest can see i can finish u from east to west
take a wild guess who i think is next
its my home i aint gettin out the crib like house arrest
im guilty of slaughters i've done
on the mic on a beat all wrapped into one
one thing is sure in life when i rap
microphones need life insurance after i kill the track
u can live life as u want but u fallin
let me see u act tuff n shit when death comes callin
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