Mr. Dead Folx Blaze Ya Dead Homie (Ft. Violent J)
On this page, discover the full lyrics of the song "Mr. Dead Folx" by Blaze Ya Dead Homie (Ft. Violent J). Lyrxo.com offers the most comprehensive and accurate lyrics, helping you connect with the music you love on a deeper level. Ideal for dedicated fans and anyone who appreciates quality music.
(Chorus 2x)
No questions for you too ask, no gats for you to blast
No money, weed, no cash
It's time to get in that ass
Mr. Dead Folx, Colton Grundy Ya Dead Homie
Don't be acting like you don't see me
Believe me man you don't know me
(Blaze)
I was the first to put it down
Reppin' with Twiztid and the clowns kicking the gangsta sounds
Strictly keep it underground
Lotus in the family, you now how we do
Coming for ours and won't hesitate to ride on you
Record sales don't make you bulletproof
Big time, and we both know you don't be doing that shit that's in your rhymes
You ain't a G like me, you ain't the thug I be
You watered down, like the punks I see on MTV
Where you're motherf**king trees, always asking for smoke
Ain't it a bitch, everybody a G when wearing Loc's
That's a figure of speech, and I be sick in the heat
Whoever think he the shit, trying to claim my territory
I'm a motherf**king G with heaters loaded and cocked
You's a small time pee-on, braggin of running rocks
Bitch break yourself, for everything and then some
Hold the mic to my dick, so you can hear me when I cum
No questions for you too ask, no gats for you to blast
No money, weed, no cash
It's time to get in that ass
Mr. Dead Folx, Colton Grundy Ya Dead Homie
Don't be acting like you don't see me
Believe me man you don't know me
(Blaze)
I was the first to put it down
Reppin' with Twiztid and the clowns kicking the gangsta sounds
Strictly keep it underground
Lotus in the family, you now how we do
Coming for ours and won't hesitate to ride on you
Record sales don't make you bulletproof
Big time, and we both know you don't be doing that shit that's in your rhymes
You ain't a G like me, you ain't the thug I be
You watered down, like the punks I see on MTV
Where you're motherf**king trees, always asking for smoke
Ain't it a bitch, everybody a G when wearing Loc's
That's a figure of speech, and I be sick in the heat
Whoever think he the shit, trying to claim my territory
I'm a motherf**king G with heaters loaded and cocked
You's a small time pee-on, braggin of running rocks
Bitch break yourself, for everything and then some
Hold the mic to my dick, so you can hear me when I cum
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