Freddie Gibbs Freestyle | LA Leakers Freestyle #151 Freddie Gibbs (Ft. DJ Sourmilk & JUSTIN CREDIBLE)

[Intro: Freddie Gibbs, Justin Credible & DJ Sourmilk]
$oul $old $eparately
Let's go, we gotta get to the bars
We gon' get to it all that quick? Aight come on
You know what they came to see baby
I'm the prize, nigga, uh
Akademiks, I'm the prize, nigga, uh
Bitch, I'm the prize, ey
Akademiks you're abusive, stop takin' them purses all and that shit from the girls, man
Here we go
It's LA Leakers man, come to the West Coast, man (Yeah)
We buy you a purse if you want a purse bitch, I got you
Yo, yo

[Verse]
Sometimes I'm Super Kane, sometimes I'm plain old Fred
Cryin' inside, my selfish braggin', bullets grazin' my head
Summer 2000, me and Shaun we had a fight every week
I oughta thank 'em, all them shootouts, they turned me to a G
Them niggas even tried to smoke me at my high school graduation
Told my lady, she was crazy, broke my heart, she had your baby
I'm like, uh, I was barely fuckin' then
He rollin' Lexus, I was hoppin' on bicycles to bucket stand
I was hella broke on McChickens and chicken nuggets then (Mhm)
Scared to touch the work, all these niggas worked for the government
Homie took a trip, fiends seen 'em whip on a sprint flim
Camera phones was new to us then, niggas got hoodwinked
Bamboozled, blacklisted, bombarded
Tryna do homework in the house with no lights, it might make you dark hearted
Every time I let off a shot, I wondered was God watchin'?
Every time them bullets came back, I wondered did God stop 'em?
Shitbag, shit boy, takin' hits since seventeen
'For I was the hitman, I was the hitboy
Shout out to HitBoy (Mhm), we was supposed to drop
Your homie said I begged 'em to do records, but his record flopped
Let me stop, them bullets poppin' just might get me knocked
Rappers gettin' hit with the RICO, they better sit back and watch
Niggas in your own city kill you, I can't stay off the block
Fiends smokin' meth, it's a shortage of coke, they off the rock
Told the DEA I ain't workin' no more, I'm off the clock
Matter of fact, I never sold dope before, what you talkin' 'bout?
Feelin' like they box me out, can't even spend this cash
Drugs for the free, all I sold these niggas was plastic bags
That's my story and I'm stickin' to it
Nine millimeter shells ain't go through his body, them bullets stickin' to 'em
Niggas might just call you the realest nigga for livin' through it
Pulse droppin' and like a new album, they tryna listen to it (Mhm)
Niggas might just call you the realest if you a dead rapper
Tweet about your ass for a week, it's onto the next rapper
Next chapter, I wrote the book on Niggalations
I see these niggas' frustrations, top five of my generation
So they try to crucify me, they can't kill me, they can't slump me
Bald-head Jesus, I'm Big Rabbit, I come back like Easter Sunday
They try to crucify me, they can't kill me, they can't slump me
Bald-head Jesus, I'm Big Rabbit, I come back like Easter Sunday
Gangsta Kane, nigga, uh, uh
Fuck with the name, nigga
Can't get 'em
Akademiks don't play no games nigga
Gon' put some in your booty