Smash Time Radio SHADE 45 Freestyle

Lyrics

[Intro: JR Writer & Hell Rell & Diplomats] Oh, that's what I'm talkin' about Yeah, that's more like it Writer, let's kidnap somebody on this one Let's do it (come on, JR) Uh, JR in the buildin', Writers Block Pt. 2, in stores Go pick that up if you don't got it Let's do it, Writer, let's go [Verse 1: JR Writer] Yo, I'm a hooligan hater, but I move like a player Take a look up in my closet, every shoe will be gater Have your baby mother drillin, out the coupe when I slay her You couldn't give the bitch the tip if you was a waiter You ain't marketable, why argue with you I'm in the mayback tryna find parkin' for two, who? The god of this bedroom, the weapon You ain't seein' numbers your career is on Star 67 Your tracklist is crackless, I use it as a ashkid Like hold up, yeah, flick your asses on this wack shit This ain't that pimp, homie I will finish ya Black suits, back cars, ho, I'm like the senator Or kinda similar, plus ask the DJ's I put out fire like I'm holdin' an extinguisher New shit every week, new pimp, bury heat I'll show you how to do this, your music is very sweet [Verse 2: Hell Rell] Yo, they tryna say I'm down-down (damn) No nigga, I'm uppity up-up, up in the truck And I'm bustin' the dutch open, picture me rollin' These niggas get up out the way they see this ratchet I'm holdin' Homie, your career's up and down like a seashore You always talkin' 'bout you fly, never been on a G-4 (C'mon) Lemme take you to the crib where we stay at for the summer It's a bar in the bathroom then I but like a butler [?], you concentrate on money it's hard for you to think Tips on the ride, fifth on the side Lil' niggas look up to me like a blunt was in the sky Why? I don't know, I guess they feelin' my swagger Love the way that I be clickin' my clack and whippin' that batter And gather round, gun-toters you still shootin' Let off some shots to this Hell Rell music Here's a couple of bars for your brain cause it's theraputic Cop 45, put your hands high I, Hell Reezy, give her the cramps easy Just fly, she knowin' niggas in lamborghinis The doors is uppin', these whores are sluts Get scooped up and we put all of them up And I'ma have enough money till I can bathe in it You can't walk in my shoes, our feet was made different, nigga