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Ghat vs Ronald Mc Donald (rap flava.com)
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Me versus mc donald from rapflava.com its a all love battle tho no beef just tryna get back on my game
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itz ya boy Ghat and Iceman
Song Info
Genre
Hip-Hop Hardcore Rap
Charts
#24,337 in subgenre Peak #208
Charts
Peak #1,505
Author
Ghat smack
Rights
Brooklyn HoLLyWooD
Uploaded
December 16, 2003
Track Files
MP3
MP3 2.8 MB 128 kbps 0:00
Lyrics
if u see me then im floatin wit a steel pipe// want beef u wanna see ya moms legs broken wit a steel pipe// jelous cus the chain that im toten got that real ice// u talkin bout that shit that u dont go thru in real life// nigga i dont know what the fears like// but i know them stories u heard of me u hope isnt in real life// cuz i got my feet soken in them rare nikes// pushin a range while u at the park hopin u could steal bikes// imma put da burna in this bitch's face// in the hood, they see me for drugs, they see you for a burga and a milkshake//(mcdonalds) homie, i dont wanan hurtem wit da twin eights// leave a hole in his head and middle, lookin surta like a big eight// cuz i got this nigga shook wit them hollows// that'll turn his afro red so hel really say he look like mc donold// thats just my steez //turn ya suit to a red valor// no trix up my sleaves whatchu think the bedrooms for// i left some six feet deep, im ready to burry more// but no six deep jeeps, i pull up in a cherry porche// bussin like a verry horny nut wit halle berry porn/// and if u think thatchu gettin urs, nigga ya verry wrong// i got bullet proof windows hooked up on every door// watchu gunnin for i got like six ghats for every one of yours// niggas in my hood is shook what happens when i come in yours// leave it in the streets or see what happens when i come in doors// u betta duck nigga, or the steel'll pump u// till u look like one of them hoops they train seals to jump thru// homie, u dont gotta be real to jump u// i come thru, wit bullets longa den heals on pump shoes// i stay spittin hollows at fruity cats// the gurls luh da, play wit my shaggy then swollow my scooby snacks// u cud catch me in the condo wit bottles and dubey raps// chickz on the bottom poppin my condems insidem hoochie rats// then ill get ridda this nigga quick// and hitchu wit bullets bigga den da finga i pulled the trigga wit// and if u dont got ya vest its simple// i'll clap at ya back and watch bullets poke out ya chest like nipples// you dont wanna be near when the metal pump back/// ill leave a flamin hoop in ya middle like a dare devel stunt ramp// and trust me im done snoozin// my guns a racist anny nigga i clap is black when im done shootin// so if u see me wit tha ghat then u dead// ill make it so niggas could see u smilin from the back of ya hed// and trust me im packin that lead and i blast plenty// so when they put you in the casket itt'l look like its half empty// so u betta show luv, when i roll up// or end up rolled up wit no guts sorta like a do nut, hold up!// ill leave you wit a fractured rib or crack ya shits// i wont hesitate to clap the kid// so when you ask the kid// u think you gon win? his answer is// nigga i will run in ya street// un tuck the heat and show u how i got guns that buck like ya teeth// i strut like a theif// concelin my weapon incase bitch niggas like u try 2 run up wit beef// so stop actin like u thuggin and clap shit// when u know the only time u holdin weight is when u huggin a fat bitch// niggas runnin his glass lips// like i wont come in and slap him// and i aint the type to run when the ghats spit// i aim at the flag in back of ya fitted// u get shook by the size of teh ghat that im spitten// why dont u ask somebody is there really a chance of you winnin??// they'll prolly just laugh at u grinnin, like//
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