A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #

Young Chris

"Toe Tag"

[Verse 1 - Billy Blue]
I said your reign on the top was short like leprechauns
Cuz I crush so called MCs, thugs, and rapper dons
Old school n*ggas, my trap the Taliban
Fiends get hooked, them boys here got the bomb
Flint [?] n*ggas get jammed, join the Quran
It was only two years f*ck n*gga, keep calm
Thought B Blue might learn a little something
Got a couple n*ggas whack, yea I did a little thugging
The money we discussing if you ask me
Got to do these numbers like a mathlete
b*tch I don't owe a n*gga sh*t
And the only thing I ever owed a ho was this di*k
I be sliding in foreign
Lord knows that these b*tches know the business
Young n*gga di*k got them hoes acting ignorant
Talking bout they made me, ain't you bend it?
f*ck with me, if your ho suck this di*k then she stuck with me
Roll bread out your account, she really f*ck with me
Return of the mag, I got a goldy touch
pus*y got that foreign feel, that Ferrari clutch
n*ggas pay the lady em hoes, them pendejos
Look at how you made that ho, sh*t
DSOP that black bottle, Imma go get it
Broke n*gga know when that money talking
Check my back pocket, white house coffin
Yea n*gga, dead presidents
You screaming broke pus*y, negligence
Bow down, this flow here is heaven sent
I ain't gotta talk about who I'm better then
Cuz lord knows that sh*t there irrelevant
They screaming "Blue you the down south veteran"
f*ck ass n*gga, no luck ass n*gga
Cracking ass fool, better duck ass n*gga
I know you n*ggas hate my flow
Running to the rule lady, tryna make me go
I'm out this b*tch man

[Verse 2 - Young Chris]
Chopper till he chops up assistant
Hit you little rickys from a distance
Got some darn scratch off, rip his f*cking back off
We hear rat-tat-tat-tat, that's when the sound of the mac off
Can't even keep it real in the game, n*ggas are blackballed
Well Imma keep writing until I'm swiping a black card
Dance on the track y'all, guess whose back y'all
Fresh off Atlantis, get money and that's
Gotta keep the metal tight, we're living that ghetto life
Your dogs are all bark, them n*ggas would never bite
Never bust a gun off, let alone never fight
If he got a dot that was never wrong, I was never right
See the brightness through the darkness of my life
Cuz ever since I was spitting, n*gga my heart was in this mic
n*ggas with jackets started checking before the flight
38 tape on the hand, or croak back and just buy the pipe
Y'all n*ggas is pus*ys, faggots we not alike
Blow a n*gga out his mind, like a n*gga was out of sight
Ain't no picks with this war sh*t, we not your type
See a lot of black and we hear us a lot of white (Right?)
Kicking down the door way before this
I was taught to raise a gun before I raised my shorty
Leave em stanking fall, money rain and all
Show up at the funeral, bloody stains and all
So you can't blame [?] dirty [?]
Even through the music, back serving the fiends, no
That's not an option, I loves the glocking
Run town on y'all pus*y boys when that guap end
I'm alive motherf*cker what up?
North Philadelphia to MIA sh*t

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #

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