Lyrics

I don't rock no ring, chain or stones on the wrist But bet money I'll rock your face bones with this fist Ignorance bliss artificial intelligence blasphemy And sucka shit Pentagon level catastrophe Bad enough we influenced by social media massively Here come this culture vulture with the ultimate audacity Implied Ross was an officer figured it get him more loot Got lumped up this nicca jumped up and filed a lawsuit Sued for 4 mill settled for 3 hundred bands That money never came from your talent just tryna help you understand You don't qualify for opinions on how ninjas eat When you yourself never did nothing in the street Nicca you hip hop's Seinfeld used to dress like Jerry You like 20 years late rocking Gucci and Burberry Vladimir telling lies in his vision I aint tryna go to jail in the words of Shawn Hartwell FUCK PRISON Streets a whole different stratosphere Nowadays you find the world's dumbest criminals on Vladimir So you here to rap or racketeer And you know my slogan GTFOH Volunteering in a House of Indictments A bunch of White Boys reporting on Black shit Blood drinking Bram Stokers is tight lipped On his own family crest where that crown sits With a frown sits off camera Law enforcement entangling amateurs Man if I could poison this cracka with ill will Fuck him, Fauci and hashtag Kill Bill Unfiltered with ill spills of stories foolish A hidden smile with poison attached to it Meanwhile they logging in dates and times Playing on underdeveloped minds I got direct access to armies but conceal that flex Trap Lore Ross, Mikey T don't be next My godmother's grandson was the first to catch on And still he got caught up fucking with that pawn Wouldn't allow for his own kind to take that L Gotta be mental illness to tell on yourself Some things are best unsaid don't get raped Just a warning for my brothers going to talk on tape
Writer(s): Gene Fields, Mark Charles Richardson, Randy Ousley Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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