[Verse 1]
What happened to niggas rappin' aggressive?
You see, when I do it, I be possessed and my flow is so oppressive
And what happened to niggas that got a message?
Niggas be sayin' that they the best and they flow is so possessive
Niggas be thinkin' they got it on lock
With the pea-shooter flows, I'ma defeat you with those
I got some shit I'ma cock and spray up the whole block
Lay 'em down, show 'em all I don't play around
30 shots when I spray a round
I'm on the tip if you follow
I shoot 'em all up with a clip full of hollows
And when I dip, I take a sip of the bottle
Then get Ghost in the whip with the throttle
Get your bitch if she swallow
The epitome of fuckery, if you fuck with me
I'ma be the one that is a rider, too cold for you to matter
You be too exquisite to try to pull it
I could put bullet holes in your designer, deletin' all of your data
All of your intelligence was too artificial
You speak only of irrelevance and you lackin' the elegance
Nothin' is real and you ain't even part official
Hit the yellow brick road, you ain't got the heart up in you
Hangin' with nothin' but lames, look at the artist with you
I spit so fast with the words, I could scar the tissue
I bring action to a verb, like a participle
And I designed every bar to hit you, because I'm war ready
What happened to niggas rappin' aggressive?
You see, when I do it, I be possessed and my flow is so oppressive
And what happened to niggas that got a message?
Niggas be sayin' that they the best and they flow is so possessive
Niggas be thinkin' they got it on lock
With the pea-shooter flows, I'ma defeat you with those
I got some shit I'ma cock and spray up the whole block
Lay 'em down, show 'em all I don't play around
30 shots when I spray a round
I'm on the tip if you follow
I shoot 'em all up with a clip full of hollows
And when I dip, I take a sip of the bottle
Then get Ghost in the whip with the throttle
Get your bitch if she swallow
The epitome of fuckery, if you fuck with me
I'ma be the one that is a rider, too cold for you to matter
You be too exquisite to try to pull it
I could put bullet holes in your designer, deletin' all of your data
All of your intelligence was too artificial
You speak only of irrelevance and you lackin' the elegance
Nothin' is real and you ain't even part official
Hit the yellow brick road, you ain't got the heart up in you
Hangin' with nothin' but lames, look at the artist with you
I spit so fast with the words, I could scar the tissue
I bring action to a verb, like a participle
And I designed every bar to hit you, because I'm war ready
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