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letra de vain freestyle (frank151: that grown man) - frank151

frank151 ft. vain – “vain freestyle (frank151 – that grown man)”
[produced by [?]]

[verse 1: vain]
yeah. i feel
the land is for the living, so i’ll burn a corpse
power toe, power lord’s ears up like a dog
dysfunctional home outside. ain’t nothing wrong
my n-ggas sing songs of blues, packing their tools
king heroin hated the jewel, persecuted the sun
shone bronze as color. every b-tch’ll show her number
n-ggas’ll wonder how i c-cked back the thunder
peer in the tundra, hacking n-ggas like lumber
front, what? throw your stub up, tear the club up
you young once. life’s fast. make your maneuvers
i notice how clouds move like drive-by shooters
n-ggas is street hoovers, in the window with a skully
stay bl–dy, patch bullet wounds with silly putty
silly buddy, ain’t nothing over here funny
it’s not the size of the mans what beats in his chest
any n-ggas tell you different ain’t living it yet
i done seen a n-gga buck-ten banging a pound
seen a n-gga two-fifty straight running from clowns
armageddon ready all year around. i gets down
and you? you hate the tone but you loving the sound
you don’t know why smack engineers write to the ground
rip their zip disc out and throw ‘em right out
smash their mpc. these n-ggas ain’t seeing me
i’m certified gangster. you’re certified prankster
like my women like sanka: in all-lace
bone their back out horizontal, spit in their face
i’m the hardest n-gga spitting. f-ck y’all n-ggas
develop your own flow, fake wannabe jigga
jig you with utensils. your mental is too simple
rip out your dental—how the f-ck you gon’ floss?
now i’ll rip out your dental—who the h-ll is the corpse?
threw a chair at judge judy. she’s talking i lost
b-tch! we do us. we don’t answer the law
don’t answer the boss, feds, or marine corps
now judy p-ssy wet—me and my mans could hit that
i feel when the train coming like a subway rat
everybody got a durag and hat, fabulous n-gga
braids twisted, different style, iverson n-gga
see, vain regular, b-tch. regular n-gga
i’ll spit the truth, n-gga. that’s how i got on
you call me jason. stay with the game face on, which means
you never catch me with my game face gone
vain. i’ll disappear like i’m city atlantis
one day, pop up. hah. city atlantis
gold-framed chrome boots, silver [?]
crack your hard head, put an end to all of your antics
i’ll crush stone and eat granite, don’t panic
the things you got to do when you evading the cops
flying dutchman, a ghost stay getting the drop
i’m forced to roam these blocks, can’t hang on my rocks
appear in a red glow, n-gga, like it or not
any dealer i encountered always ended up shot
p-ssy

- frank151

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