[Round 1: Truth Watson]
I say, you gon’ mention guns, drugs, fights
Shit that shoulda stayed in the streets
And talkin’ ‘bout the trap is what you like to say and repeat
But after this, you’ll be takin’ a seat
Dear Lord, please let me have a good next seven days…
I’m here to prey (pray) on the weak (week)
Wit’ two ‘Ks (2K), don’t start beef
I give a fuck if it’s 3-v-3 in the streets - you can’t park me
Bitch, do not take me light! It’s costly!
I’m a real nigga, and I put that on everything like parsley
Berry Moore Jr., you are trash as fuck!
You in the Crucible and Ultimate Madness - it ain’t addin’ up
See, I done had it up to hеre wit’ you
We do not need Moore (morе) - we done had enough!
Nigga, everything fake ‘bout him
And since you rep your set so hard, every drop of blood is what I drain out him
I gotta drop Moore (More) Life like a Drake album!
I’m a gun-squeezer!
Greyhound for a road trip: bus(t) heaters
And I know, I be a little skeptical, but I love Nina
Nigga, I can count the bitches that I trust on one finger
You can’t fool nothin’
Move, cousin!
Y’all gon’ think of Derrick Rose injuries when the tool dumpin’
‘Cause he on the floor, and they all gon’ be screamin’ “MVP!” when I pull somethin’!
Yeah! Yeah, nigga!
I got it on me - you think I’m scared, nigga?
Y’all remember Trey Songz wit’ the cornrows?
It got a hair-trigger (Trigga)
Oh, I-Oh, I-Oh, I think they like me
No, you will not fight me
Promise you gon’ get holes up in yo’ shirt if you spite me
Big bullets, fly in any weather like a white tee
I’m slide in!
Pistol in my lap and ride in
Everybody askin’ “Who done it?” I did!
This is therapy, I’m helpin’ you see what’s on the inside…of your eyelids!
But he this big Crip and he swear he strapped
‘Til I let a Dezzi clap!
A headshot’ll have blue sittin’ down: now he handicapped
But me!?
I’m just a pimp in recruitment, the MAC (mack) spit
Where is his body geographically? I don’t know
Nigga, track it
So whether you got a map, bitch, or follow him on Twitter
You still gon’ have to find him on the atlas (@ list)!
I’m that sick!
The nigga tried to run, haul off
(*chk-chk*) And met a shotgun
Celebrity sighting: sawed-off (saw Dolph)
Or maybe the TEC spittin’ if he set-trippin’
Nigga! You wanna know what it’s like to be my next victim!?
Helen Keller tryna tell you somethin’: it’s a death (deaf) sentence
Go next, nigga
I say, you gon’ mention guns, drugs, fights
Shit that shoulda stayed in the streets
And talkin’ ‘bout the trap is what you like to say and repeat
But after this, you’ll be takin’ a seat
Dear Lord, please let me have a good next seven days…
I’m here to prey (pray) on the weak (week)
Wit’ two ‘Ks (2K), don’t start beef
I give a fuck if it’s 3-v-3 in the streets - you can’t park me
Bitch, do not take me light! It’s costly!
I’m a real nigga, and I put that on everything like parsley
Berry Moore Jr., you are trash as fuck!
You in the Crucible and Ultimate Madness - it ain’t addin’ up
See, I done had it up to hеre wit’ you
We do not need Moore (morе) - we done had enough!
Nigga, everything fake ‘bout him
And since you rep your set so hard, every drop of blood is what I drain out him
I gotta drop Moore (More) Life like a Drake album!
I’m a gun-squeezer!
Greyhound for a road trip: bus(t) heaters
And I know, I be a little skeptical, but I love Nina
Nigga, I can count the bitches that I trust on one finger
You can’t fool nothin’
Move, cousin!
Y’all gon’ think of Derrick Rose injuries when the tool dumpin’
‘Cause he on the floor, and they all gon’ be screamin’ “MVP!” when I pull somethin’!
Yeah! Yeah, nigga!
I got it on me - you think I’m scared, nigga?
Y’all remember Trey Songz wit’ the cornrows?
It got a hair-trigger (Trigga)
Oh, I-Oh, I-Oh, I think they like me
No, you will not fight me
Promise you gon’ get holes up in yo’ shirt if you spite me
Big bullets, fly in any weather like a white tee
I’m slide in!
Pistol in my lap and ride in
Everybody askin’ “Who done it?” I did!
This is therapy, I’m helpin’ you see what’s on the inside…of your eyelids!
But he this big Crip and he swear he strapped
‘Til I let a Dezzi clap!
A headshot’ll have blue sittin’ down: now he handicapped
But me!?
I’m just a pimp in recruitment, the MAC (mack) spit
Where is his body geographically? I don’t know
Nigga, track it
So whether you got a map, bitch, or follow him on Twitter
You still gon’ have to find him on the atlas (@ list)!
I’m that sick!
The nigga tried to run, haul off
(*chk-chk*) And met a shotgun
Celebrity sighting: sawed-off (saw Dolph)
Or maybe the TEC spittin’ if he set-trippin’
Nigga! You wanna know what it’s like to be my next victim!?
Helen Keller tryna tell you somethin’: it’s a death (deaf) sentence
Go next, nigga
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