Susi: C minor
Verse 1
Am
Am
It's the next one from the D .C.,
I claim the mitten
Y 'all lame or y 'all spittin',
dawg, my game is written
Bm
When I blast the heat twice
on beats I'm precise
Got homies in the hood buckin' shit,
so be nice
about to foil their plans
They said it can't be done twice,
now they soiled their pants
Bm
Knew if I got on anyway,
I'd face trouble
Blew up and then disintegrate
like this space shuttle
Am
But I'm here, motherfuckers,
anyway, so sit back
Another MC from the D that splits cats
you can check my background
This time I've come harder,
give up or back down
since the days of the ruck -ruck
Now I'm here with a vengeance,
amazing as fuck
been disanticipated
Now it's two by the rule,
y 'all cats have to hate it
Am
Better run, before I come up in your crib
with your wife and your kids
Put a slug up in your ribs homie,
Bm
get a gun, or you got no chance
Don't stop, don't glance,
don't drop, don't dance,
Before you feel all the pain,
get shot in your brain
Then I clean up all the stains,
Then I hide all the proof
that I pushed in your roof
when them shells went loose
Am
I'm the Bill Lambere of the game,
a loud mouth bad boy
For the city Detroit that shouts out,
Bm
I'm known for ill static
Yeah, cause I can spit five
rhymes with five mics
Am
Nasty like Illmatic, it's still magic
The way that I spill words is tragic
What, I ain't a prodigy,
don't sleep, I'm wreck
Bm
Have it, I spit it out, you grab it
Regurgitate it and slam it
I heard you take dammit,
I can't bear to stand it
Am
If your tracks were suicide,
homeboy, you oughta jump
You couldn't spill flows
if your mouth was a water pump
Bm
Take the mic, drop it and flee
Go cop in a plea
Or you'll get shot in the knee
Or feel a lot of debris
We live and breathe these lines
And lift lids off of kids
just to read their minds
Bm
If they holdin' motherfucka,
believe they might use it
Or go 12 rounds in the D with fight music
Before I come up in your crib
with your wife and your kids
Put a slug up in your ribs, homie
Or you got no chance
Don't stop, don't glance
Don't drop, don't dance
Before you feel all the pain
Get shot in your brain
And I clean up all the stains
Then I hide all the proof
That I pushed in your roof
When them shells let loose
Am
I'm a rap rhyme minister
Some say sinister
Quick to spit shit
Quicker off the liquor
Scuffles, laughs or chuckles
Just hands out
Come with some brass and knuckles
Abs and crutches
Work out cause I ain't with
all them jabs and punches
But my minis are empty
Soon as anybody jumps
in my face to tempt me
Came up on rap shit
I clapped the gay rappers
that barked
And that's it
And watch your kid's eyes pout,
cause daddy's layin' there
with his insides out
Am
Debtin' you're bleedin',
all blend with two reasons
One, you're MC's with
no expertise,
But, all in with two squeezes,
to separate you from your
spirit just like Jesus
Am
Better run, before I come up in your crib
with your wife and your kids
Bm
Put a slug up in your ribs, homie, get a gun
Or you got no chance,
don't stop, don't glance
Don't drop, don't dance,
Before you feel all the pain,
get shot in your brain
And I clean up all the stains,
Then I hide all the proof
that I pushed in your roof
When them shells let loose,
Before I come up in your crib
with your wife and your kids
Put a slug up in your ribs,
Or you got no chance,
don't stop, don't glance
Don't drop, don't dance,
Before you feel all the pain,
get shot in your brain
And I clean up all the stains,
And then I hide all the proof
that I pushed in your roof
when them shelves let loose
Yeah
We holdin' it
Bm
Am
Run away
Bm
Am
Bm
You
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