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letra de say so freestyle - gilbere forte

i’ll be that smelly mother f-cker, dripped in town [?]
[?] clocks to wake a n-gga form a snore
[?] laced up, alexander mcqueen [?]
wash and let [?] from over seas
at the spa serving alligators swimming from new orleans
[?] peregrino polish like a casino
[?] i’m feeling like [?]
the colour green can bring a n-gga to his dreams
[?] that should never be seen
-n-lyse the money but never making the cream
living on life trying to find out where i’ll be
[?] my memories for [?]
i ain’t never winning [?] you see pork on my sandwich?
the only way out of life is all the time that you vanish
death usually come with a smell, why would you panic? yeah!
don’t ever bite the hand that feeds you, n-gga
[?] check the sleeves on a n-gga
that type of fam that don’t see pictures
i never chase p-ssy, i just keep ’em on the middle
the greatest gift is not knowing what god would get you
the cost eleven is only a bigger issue
i can’t believe you n-ggers!
dressing like each other like f-ck you’re third cous
straight discussing like a side way robber
someone’s cope rappers really be undercover
from the suburbs living fairy-tales like n-ggers in the cup-burbs
real n-ggers supporting the local dealers
sweet tooth, ice tea, all type top k!llers
rapping for my n-ggers [?] i know they feel it
fly city am i blunt, for me to ever spill it? yeah!
survivor of the realest, the realest!
[?] my daddy told me f-ck that benz, f-ck a [?]
we only ride the best, so what you ride you better k!ll it
and tell that n-gga stay upon forty on my skelet
you got the juice now! [?] for my town!
when the time comes i’m canning a goose down!
i’m in the studio getting blunt
getting high of my black soul every song
feeling pops spirit and my lyrics riding home
seat back, back seat, [?] pillows on
crank into a rufus riding for the f-ck of it
[?] while she suck a d-ck
best to give it here while she [?]
a mountain high looking down from the [?] slope
sand in my toes, sleep walking on the [?]
my compet-tion is never scary i fought smoke
if you don’t f-cking go, i’m a jack you
i’m tired to burn for you n-ggers, forgot how much my sack holds
get of my d-ck!

- gilbere forte

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