Lyrics

[Intro] Yo, I'ma just tell these fake-ass niggas What? Ho-ass, fake-ass, rapping Let all them know what's up Fuck your whole crew, nigga Fuck that, you know what I'm saying? Nigga, y'all ain't shit nigga I'ma tell y'all just like this This planet ain't big enough for the both of us And y'all gots to go That's right We're kicking all bitches off That's right No mercy, bitch What's that to me, nigga? [Verse 1] Well let me start this discussion with my skull bustin' Fire-breathing dragon smokin' [?] sippin' Robitussin Cussin' like a sailor I got your holy blood on my Chuck Taylors Stressin', one of life's hard lessons Learn not to ask a lot of questions (Shhh) And if you guessin', what if you guessin' wrong Dead men don't sing no songs engraved on your tombstone My mind swells, and then my rhymes raise Hell Felony lifestyle for niggas who post they own bail [?] in your bitch, sippin' [?] Remember [?] Psychopath, schizophrenic, man, I'm paranoid Me and your clique, this collisions can't avoid [-s'eeb a kcuF gnits-?], nigga, my whole crew beasting Coming to your town, look what the Devil [?] (NATAS, uh) [Verse 2] In the middle of the night, we fight, and I'ma spark this Niggas gettin' shot on the mic, dyin' a artist Don't breathe your last from the mic, dyin' a artist (That's right) Don't breathe your last from the mic, dyin' a artist Don't breathe your last from the mic, dyin' a artist Don't breathe your last from the mic, dyin' a artist Don't breathe your last from the mic, dyin' a artist Don't breathe your last from the mic, dyin' a artist Don't breathe your last from the mic, nigga, dyin' a artist Don't breathe your last from the mic [Verse 3] [?] I kick conversation [?] mental vibrations Come at you with ill speak but never leak information A nation of killers is born, beware Let the demons tell me NATAS to come, we there To bust, the retaliation is too much Stay off your own dick, hang too low and lose your nuts (Get the fuck back! Get the fuck back!) Who the fuck? Steppin' too close, and yo (That's right) Give me room to breathe from the mic so I can fix my [?] Move more units of dope than the law allows us Rapper man, you gotta have more than fans You gotta have followers, do or die-ers Those that look at you like the Messiah I'm a sin, suicide bombers in to spark the fire This demonstration is an illustration of my thoughts Watch the world panic, they can't stand it when killers talk You cause a riot giving assignments and contracts Suckers think they got the bomb raps need to calm that I don't believe the hype, you screaming [Why, Father?] Takin' all, just going and we're wasting company dollars You got a lot of time on your hands, [?] I got a lot of feelings and got them to represent me (Bitch) [Outro] Come on, niggas Let's go We're going to they city, nigga Across the world War's on, boy I'm bringing the whole city with me Detroit