Dylan Ross
Do You Owe Me My Props
I’m smashing faces
When I make you catch a hot one
And in never catching cases I’ll probably say I don’t got one
I got guns
But only one that I like to use
A 19 metal boast
That bitch ass like wife abuse
I don’t like to lose
I never bought into the propaganda of Nike Shoes
I got enough power
I could even get Christ to move
And then proceed to start a fight with you
Control the mind of God
I find it odd that I don’t find it odd that bitches find me odd
If you try to rap but you can’t you better find a job
Shit I’m on mine
And been on it a long time
Rappers say they put themselves on but it’s only online
And most can’t even rhyme on time
I’m strictly vegan but I would rather have beef than dine on swine
So I’m just making up for lost time
The only reason I can kick one for your mine is cause I lost mine

[Hook]
Do You Owe Me My Props
Course you do, Course you do
Do You Owe Me My Props
Ofcourse you do, Ofcourse you do
Do You Owe Me My Props
Ofcourse you fucking do
[x2]
No hands like Kane
And I still got it
I got Lorana Bobbit on coke
I cut it up and toss it
With a gun on the dash
Gun and a mask
With rappers in itchy to kill her
I always got one on my back
I have come to attack
Any motherfucker from the front to the back
Who thinks he’s nice
Will get fucked in the ass
With a [?] dumped off in the trash
You wanna go toe to toe
Let’s see how long you motherfuckers u’ll last
Handzum boys what in destined to rep
I’m down to crucify any rapper that walks with a feminine step
Showing up to shows in a bitchy mood
Tripping on sets
But when it’s your time to rhyme you wind up tripping instead
I can’t be the one to fill em with lead
And spill enough blood
Out to fill a river bed
Il let the crown kill him instead
Your 87’ and you don’t know Alf
Fuck Oprah the only stepping that I’ve ever been down with is Ralph
[Hook]