[Freddie Gibbs]

Yeah, Yeah
I know you feel it right
I'm bout to kill it right
I know you feel it right
I'm bout to kill it right
I know you feel it right

Yo, fuck the dumb shit
I step off on this motherfuckin' jammin'
Got my package i'm bout to get this motherfucker slammin'
Give me 6 for the zip, I need 22 for the cutie
65 for the whole enchilida, that tootie fruitie
No this ain't a movie but all my sentences cinematic
Yes I started rappin', wrappin' the crack in my n***a attic
Flowin' to myself and next thing you know it was automatic
Rap is full of faggots so i'm ecstatic about my status
Straight gangsta razor in the mouth shit
Fuck all the love songs that keep Pee Herman outfits
I get my thug on cause that's just what i'm down wit
N***as raised on food stamps and public housing
Cause my poppa was a copper so other children didn't wanna play with me
Had to go extra harder to show 'em there was no fake in me
Dealers, killers and bakers relate to me
Cause I never been a bitch or a snitch, smokin' gun can't alpha omega me
Hustlin', I got that shit from my uncle, pimpin'
I picked it up from my grandaddy
I'm from the ghetto not Degrassi, so I
I rapidly spit it and give 'em the visual flow in the same rhyme
I'm out on bail and on probation at the same time
Motherfuck a P.O. and all his police amigos
I get slammin' in that caddy, like slab (?) bumpin' that Z-Ro
Went from Brooklyn to the G with a key of D in the GO
These n***as singin' like Ne-Yo and takin' D on the d-low
Snitches pointed out my spot to the people but i was ditchen' em
Once I hit the fence I got the dippin' like Harry Dickinson
Sugar sick and demented for Benjamins
Same n***as that shitted on me and didn't pay attention
I got 'em listenin'
Gibbs, n***a