Drop Em

Lyrics

[Verse 1: Guilty Simpson] Peace to Vic Spencer Yeah I'm from the city where they'll kill you if you're on something Free slave made a dash from the open dungeon Inhale, gave my ex hell I'm highed up and she wired up Cause I never gave the bitch my number to my next cell Still I exhale the grand national Capital is how you best spell the name I'm the shit folding paper Like origami in a porta-potty counting change Doctor said [?] insane, lost my marbles [?] tocuh cargo, shell 'em like escargot It's more than rap It's switching up to get my quarter back with pocket change Flow magnificent, I'm ignorant Spit nonfiction with such conviction [?] I get busy light my phone off You don't wanna tussle with the black Nikita Koloff, you need Zoloft My block'll burn souls off Twist my own blunts, these clowns roll with soft Passionate pen, back at it again Travel and spend my salary ends Madden my kin, machine guns at that same back Your friends put that battery in I grab the pad and the pen And rock to rep my nigga up Now let the madness begin [Verse 2: Vic Spencer] Everything is great when you don't give a shit When you actually got some moments and you live for it Pull my dick out in public, watch it piss you off If your brain is empty I can give you thoughts Vic Spencer is wack When you say that shit you always go behind my back When niggas used to beg me to get on a track I was you nigga's only supporter at one point that's fact Niggas love salt but I wanted to screw pepper How many blondes does it take to change a diaper? Ask Hugh Hefner You niggas kill me with your pimip stories The sun don't shine and the eclipses bore me Take it from a rapper that doesn't give a shit I got two kids so I ain't saving shit Marijuana's a gateway drug A gateway to what, the fridge? Nigga I'm on my way to that shit What's the difference between a woman and a bad joke? Nothing really that was a bad joke But shit I'm an asshole Chicago hates me, so I earned the departure Replacing my chicks lipstick with permanent marker Sweet ass nigga add lemon spray to crack dinner plates I challenge a nigga in a wheelchair to a swimming race I can't swim, I break limbs to pieces I ain't them, but I create phlegm from the [?] And that's for real, I have yet to kill But don't cont me out, 17 fans gonna round it out At your wooden roundtable I'm cool in this cubicle When I die I don't wanna see you at my funeral I wrote this shit waiting on my daughter's clothes to dry I write like Martin Luther King (Word) I'm supposed to die (Damn) I'm striking a nerve deep And records about justice are putting me to sleep Snoring, boring, exploring Hit shit like Chuck Norris, soaring In the sky nigga I'm an astronaut I blast the Glock, fuck with V-I-C I'll let your ass rot