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letra de chance - g2slim

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[intro]
bro, you’re not even gonna give me a chance?
bro‚ just–just let me do my thing
okay?

[verse 1]
i was brought up to never take s—
whenever i’m knocked down i get
right off the ground and just pick
up a mic and rip s— when i spit
soon as i hit record i’m already done
i put the time into writing every phrase
you make attempts to perfect a song
but i can do it in just one take
hardly awake and tryna calibrate
heavyweights say they wanna break
every last bone so i gotta paint
a picture you cannot mistake
mumble rap vs lyrical eng*nius
wonder at first why i got a verse
with no autotune‚ a lot of scenic
bars complete‚ but i wanna insert
a bit more words into each line
am i gonna lay back like i recline
or act when i crash on impact
or stack like i was at columbine

critic: but wait a minute, you can’t say that…
g2slim: get the f— out my face

coming straight out the gate
bet i make no mistakes
you catching l’s
i’m catching z’s
no debate better keep up with the pace
but i can get up on that train
rap about gunnin’ and cocaine
only thing gotta have no brain
look at that how i make them booties clap
sleep in money stacks i take them gucci naps
like a cheetah on some crack i’m super fast
dm me on instagram no thot i’m quick to p-ss
give your grandma a heart attack
hear my music and she snaps
got a lambo out in front
about a dozen in the back
green raining on that daily man
grinding on that daily man
you waiting to get paid man
but n-body ever pay me man

(incoming messege)
get, get‚ skrrt

no f—ing clue what i do when i’m up in the club
pushing and shoving my way with the bunch
just did some c-ke, ain’t f—ing joking
so i’m at your throat if you f— with my punch
sneak in without even making a sound (shh)
ate up that p—- she moaning so loud (uhh)
bit it i spit it out onto the ground
ask if i’m asian what she talking ’bout (what)
evoking my smoking that arti be choking
see and i know what pic-sso be showing (yeah)
skipping my situps my stomach abstract
clip in the glock and i’m c-cking it back (gratata)
tipping these strippers at fifty percent
say they want more to pay for they rent
but hoes wanna go but they do not know me
catch me outside like danielle bregoli
(cashe me ouside how bow dat)

[verse 2]
daddy and mommy don’t want you to copy
what’s in the music by shooting up, using
blacking out from doing too much
p-ssing around and hitting that blunt
guage boutta break as i drift on this track cuz
tokyo mad i’m smoother than lucas black
got a target in sight i don’t hold back
better pull a harden gotta step back
f—ing s— up then breaking s— down
you f— with me cuz you want some clout
got a lotta shot shottas on my block but they
gonna get they blocks knocked off today
no more lean in my cup so i’m p-ssed
fill it up so i can get f—ed up
you tryna catch smoke but you missed
i’m on top‚ never drop i’m limitless
n-body able to contain this reign
i got drip till i drop quit playing
claiming you drop bodies
just to boost your ego prolly
my normal day is your holiday (holiday)
oh by the way i wanna say (wanna say)
i got molly smoke i don’t know prolly every day
bottles popping, talking hip hop always (always)
your flow is imperceptible, irreparable, unacceptable and garbage
my flow is impeccable, unexpectable it an act or you actually r-t-rded?

[verse]
they say-
practice like you never won
play like you never lost
you know i do anything
double commas f— the cost
ain’t got no common sense
cus i’m stacking hundreds
get paid, get laid and do it again

[bridge]
ever since back in the day
whenever my dad would play
snoop dogg, 2pac, or nwa
the music just blew me away
now it’s been about a decade
and i still feel the same way
my soul is built on hip hop
you can’t ever take that away

[verse 3]
(yeah)
f— a mumble rapper
i know what you’re after
f— it’s all just banter
dissing all just slander
my writer’s block was a thing of the past
now i’m back k!lling it where the body bags at?
when i get up on the microphone i spit
a verse so sick got a call a nurse to check
how many brain cells i’ve k!lled
with the words that i work you better expect
a natural disaster to hit
but let’s be honest
only disaster is that fake gucci hanging round your neck– (insert word here)
which f—ing switch did i hit?
oh, this is the bit where you get hit
backwards b—- with bipolar order diss
p-ssed cuz i exposed you lickety-split
did lines then i did time till i pinned rhymes
every bar a hit for this underlying punchline

[outro]
uhh, yeah
you know, like underlying punchline
like punch, hit, bar, line
and it’s underlying

(phone rings)
producer: h-llo?
studio guy: you need to come down to the studio right now and sign this kid. i’m telling you, he’s going to make us millions

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