Ladies and gentleman
Ladies and gentleman
Ladies and gentleman
Are you really ready for some super dynamite soul?
[Verse 1: Guilty Simpson]
I body tracks with a brutal approach flying coach
First class when I'm dropping shit I wrote
Convert cash in airports and splurge on whatever I desire
The lead writer, I street fight ya, ya'll play Street Fighter
Big difference, miles apart, styles is darts
On point I parallel park on street cats
Feed your back a knife, a reckless [?]
Watch your tone around here
Even kingpins get dethroned around here
They don't give a fuck about what they buck buck
Bring me the truck tucked and sleep with tough luck
Harsh reality, spark the Cali tree
In the motor city where they chart fatalities
B-boy stance the place
Cause the poppers gonna pop, the breakers gonna break
[Verse 2: Rass Kass]
I'm one of the depressed children, top billing
If skills would pay the bills I'm worth at least a hundred million
A lot of rappers be illin', hit 'em with the dealing
Turn an overnight villain, catch a case and start squealing
I'm standing on a square like a slice of Sicilian
Afghan vet killing, fucked like the debt ceiling
I treat crabs like my red-haired step children
Slap 'em around, fuck they moms with my sex healing
Word to Marvin Gaye
I put the same gun you bought me to your chest and blow you away
Pause, period periodically delirious
FM radio is wack so I usually bump Serius
Effect the Gucci belts microphone plug
Makes me not very likable
Make all the bitches fight like my dick'll do
Walk into the booth with a mouth full of pick to chews
Ladies and gentleman
Ladies and gentleman
Are you really ready for some super dynamite soul?
[Verse 1: Guilty Simpson]
I body tracks with a brutal approach flying coach
First class when I'm dropping shit I wrote
Convert cash in airports and splurge on whatever I desire
The lead writer, I street fight ya, ya'll play Street Fighter
Big difference, miles apart, styles is darts
On point I parallel park on street cats
Feed your back a knife, a reckless [?]
Watch your tone around here
Even kingpins get dethroned around here
They don't give a fuck about what they buck buck
Bring me the truck tucked and sleep with tough luck
Harsh reality, spark the Cali tree
In the motor city where they chart fatalities
B-boy stance the place
Cause the poppers gonna pop, the breakers gonna break
[Verse 2: Rass Kass]
I'm one of the depressed children, top billing
If skills would pay the bills I'm worth at least a hundred million
A lot of rappers be illin', hit 'em with the dealing
Turn an overnight villain, catch a case and start squealing
I'm standing on a square like a slice of Sicilian
Afghan vet killing, fucked like the debt ceiling
I treat crabs like my red-haired step children
Slap 'em around, fuck they moms with my sex healing
Word to Marvin Gaye
I put the same gun you bought me to your chest and blow you away
Pause, period periodically delirious
FM radio is wack so I usually bump Serius
Effect the Gucci belts microphone plug
Makes me not very likable
Make all the bitches fight like my dick'll do
Walk into the booth with a mouth full of pick to chews
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