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Reed Dollaz Diss (freestyle) - Meek Mill
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Reed Dollaz Diss (freestyle) Meek Mill

Reed Dollaz Diss (freestyle) - Meek Mill
[Intro]

“HEY WHERES THE BEEF? I don’t think there’s anybody back there”

[verse]

I got the whole Force after me cause i be out all night, hard white, makin door sales like batteries, dishing rock cause I need money like a charity and I ain’t gon’ stop till a motherfucker burry me, battle me go head hype him up I’ll embarrass him my spear hit his ass it’ll Bloody Mary him, shotty blast with body bags they gotta carry him, Meek Milly I squeeze millis and got accuracy, so try runnin they dumpin and hit the back of him, hit his crown and spin around now he’s a tragedy, you ain’t a friend of Meek nigga you my enemy, so I’m giving out shots like Hennessy, to any nigga with a problem we solve em with semi autos and bottles we run up on em and off em, every man for himself keep my hands to myself, imma ridah I ain’t never ran for no help kept that [?] by the belt cause niggas will get to creepin, my niggas will grip them heaters and squeez em, you in the freezer pussy like an Ellios pizza, you don’t like me I don’t like you neither, ain’t about a dolla, holla, cause y’all the type of niggas get knocked start singin like an opera, swingin with the coppas, gettin niggas booked cause the crackers got you crackin like the raw when it’s cooked, keep the trey pound seven that’ll lay down somethin, when the beef jump off, and my heat dump off 50 shots let em chop, blow a meat chunk off, flip his block let him pop till police come dawg, I’m street, I’m raw, you sweet, I’m hard that’s the difference I’m the sickest when the beat come on, get ya peeps, come on, we can have it on sight 100 bars every verse I be rappin all night, servin addicts all white, make the cabbage all right to get the jackets all white or the Benz’s all black, spin the rims and all that, trey pound 6 rounds hit ya brim and all that just to knock ya noggin off niggas got it in, we got crack like your ass, pills like Tylenol, weed like a garden, dope like coma, meth like Redman, and coke like it’s soda, man Imma G, nigga you ain’t heard of me this pound I got will turn a niggas white tee burgundy, better yet I’ll turn a nigga day to a murder scene with hospital beds and doctors performin surgery, fighting for your life, you nice with them hand and you’re fighting like you Mike well I’m fighting with the pipe, 44 Dirty Harry turn bull Bloody Mary, he’ll be clockin out tonight, [?] for his life, I hang with the villains, hang, bang with the killas, bang trey pound southern barrel spin just like it’s cellophane, I bring them [?] out, I bring the drama to him, put the Tommy to him, Hilfiger what I’m talkin bout, you say my name in them verses but on some real shit shawty don’t want beef I come down southwest with that oowap and lay that nigga Reed all out in that street, this nigga better fall back fore’ he get his skull cracked, yea you’ll catch all that, them clips hold 50, see niggas think they all that till they where that yard at, I hit em where he hard at he stiff like a Dickie, South side motherfucker where they kill at will, if you heated I bet you freezer will have you chilly chilled, that boy Reed need to feel that steel, he a bitch be on my dick like “I feel Meek Mill”, and me gettin smacked picture that with a Kodak, cause I’m the younger nigga, you numbers just like a throwback, so disrespect I’ll come at your neck right where your throat at, I grip a TEC, rain on your set then I reload that, cock with the aim on top, know Imma blow that, I pop at yo brains you drop, these niggas know that, nobody smackin me what you lyin for? Shit ya new name Simba, you the lion boy, this rap shit ain’t worth dyin for, niggas with heat yo ass up like an ironing board, this nigga chirping me irking me early in the mornin, sounding like a bitch, “why can’t we get along?” Nigga get a thong, this a mans world nigga talkin on the phone soundin like a damn girl, you hop on ya track and lie in your verse, dawg, if I get smacked somebody get murked off, casket shit, funeral time and we ain’t gon’ do this rap shit too many times, the bull Reed is a bitch I can see it in his face, trigger squeeze, he a snitch, lawyer beatin up the case, then I’m heatin up his place where his mom stay at, just like a cop I make it hot where your grinding at, grip the stock the H cocked, like a laundromat I wet his clothes up, heat him then he fold up, we got a wop for every shell, and we got a shell for every bar you spit, you little faggot ass nigga man you soft as shit, talkin this talkin that, nigga you ain’t sparkin jack, you a stone cold pussy nigga all you do it rap, I just wanna clap when I see you on sight, trey pound, 8 rounds for every weight in holme pipe, I’ll send him to the pastor, I give him what he ask for, funeral [?] shoot him with the mask on, turn the gas on, when the beef cookin.. shit
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