Immaculate Perception

8Ball & Waka Flocka Flame & Yelawolf - Rap
Immaculate Perception
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Lyrics
[Intro: 8Ball] They love to hate Any time, any place They love to hate Behind your back and in your face They love to hate Every day, all day They love to hate Behind your back and in your face [Verse 1: 8Ball] Leave one of you niggas stretched out in the middle of the street Stressed out every day of the week My only relief when I hear these beats Smokin' calms me down Talk soft but the weed I blow loud I was hard then, still hard now Memphis, nigga, that's still my town Big 4-5, not for show If you see it, you probably finna die Don't run fast, but the bullets in the air Sound like "shh, shh" when they whizzin' by Put it in the light, brag it ain't so My DNA does not contain ho MJG, my brother for life No speculation, that's what I know Timeless, it don't die bitch Long life, strong heart Hot head, could've been dead Space age, that's what we are Bigger than life, Superman No cape on, with the blunt in my hand Safety off, I might let one go Safety off, I might let one go [Chorus: 8Ball] I wanna make them happy songs, but it's not a accurate reflection I make street poetry with my immaculate perception Never go nowhere without 4-5, that's there for my protection I was rolling up and burning at the time of its conception And I know that sounds kinda fucked up, y'all But that's how I feel, and that's how I roll And that's all I live, and that's all I know And it's what I give, and that's how it goes [Verse 2: Waka Flocka Flame] Twenty thousand eight balls of cocaine That's what it cost for the chain Me and 8Ball in the ass club, they screamin' out, "Make it rain!" That's all I know my dog, ball I'm a boss like a GD My life a movie, no TV, I'm fully focused All my heads in, the breeze feel better in the driver's seat Don't preach to me about music Sayin', "Waka, step up your lyrics" Mind your business, I'm eatin' Big belly, that's the get-money gut Flockaveli got me a bulletproof truck This new-groove clutch got me stuck Blowin' out the backwoods Waka Flocka Flame, the '96 Suge I do what I wanna, you do what you could I said ghetto after ghetto, walkin' block after block From Craig County, Riverdale, motherfucker I'm up all night like a trucker I don't trust shit, them cops is suckers Brick Squad Monopoly, that's the company I don't need no company so I'mma let my homies speak I'mma do me and be myself If you don't like that go fuck yourself [Chorus: 8Ball] I wanna make them happy songs, but it's not a accurate reflection I make street poetry with my immaculate perception Never go nowhere without 4-5, that's there for my protection I was rolling up and burning at the time of its conception And I know that sounds kinda fucked up, y'all But that's how I feel, and that's how I roll And that's all I live, and that's all I know And it's what I give, and that's how it goes [Verse 3: Yelawolf] You see this Jack bottle? That could be the reason that I pulled the motherfucker right out, scared him And introduced him to my homie Trailer Park Bare-knuckled to your gold-grip polish You see this bad model? She might be the only bitch to ever get you into a situation, Because you hate to see me lookin' like I do And still get these number tens, ho Oh, you a gangster, huh? Well I never seen a G suckin' dick Cause I put it on my fuckin' list To fuck up shit in the rap game, and I'm doin' it Slumerican's bangin', huh? Besides me, you ain't never gonna fuck with Rittz And Shawty Fatt'll welcome back into the welcome mat Young Struggle at the mailbox with the bricks 8Ball, Waka Flocka walking through the sticks Alabama got a lot of choppers with the clips And because I know a little bit about this Yelawolf has got a lot of people talkin' shit But it's everything cause you don't know about the history That Michael Wayne has been through, homie I could've flown to the moon on a bird's back Before I could jump out and act like a phony So it really don't matter to me What you think about the clothes I put on It's my originality That's got 'em all acting like clones Catfish Billy and I'm on some new shit Don't hate bitch, I can make you rich Suck dick while I sip Nestle Quik With my muddy shoes all over you momma's new whip Yup, Yeller [Outro: 8Ball] They love to hate Any time, any place They love to hate Behind your back and in your face They love to hate
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Credits
- Producers
- Drumma Boy