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letra de sweet freestyle - gilbere forte

[gilbere forte]
i pledge allegiance to the moments i have forgiven
like blowing a quarter mill if the devil could make a million
menace to your society, harold couldn’t defend ‘em
chopping ‘em like karate, all you p-ssies submitting
barking from a junkyard, sleeping with a kitten
n-gga slit your wrist, what a wonderful feeling
i don’t know anybody that claim to be anybody
if anybody wasn’t a f-cking sh-t to anybody
black scale fitted, that dre don’t keep me kicking
all the b-tches i be f-cking on the side of the payment
sidewalk, could you fake it? motherf-cker, side walk till your grave
take a belt and like the knot and k!ll yourself, i’m flexing, flint, michigan to a blessing
born in ’87 to a million dollar question, you jumping out of life with no protection
i’m jumping in this life, throw ’em and catch ‘em, 24 years old
do i look like a freshman? year after year, your career come into question
i’m popping outside your world for my dinners with george jetson
desert eagle boots, leather balm of smith & wesson
my style k!ll y’all n-ggas, david koresh-ing
fire in the hole, got the water man stressing
revoking all the placements i deserve for
guess i gotta spend money for them to say that they heard of boy
running on the land of vultures with no oceans
living off versace you fake n-ggas been sewed in
laughing at you b-st-rds trying to wipe the hoes i broke in
bring the motherf-cking jokes in, yeah, they said i sound a little c-cky
but never did your woman try to stop me, i don’t speak spanish
so why she calling me papi? got two middle fingers
she obviously gave a f-ck, half-court shot, she swallowed them in the clutch
swish, ain’t that a b-tch? street wear got these n-ggas living off each other’s d-cks
sick, walking through another man’s p-ss, ugh
yeah, i respect the blogs, just not the n-ggas paying ‘em off
i’m tired of all these inquiries, asking me for a check
buying sp-ce on they cd that never hit the net, dummy
what the f-ck i look like? two blind n-ggas trying to g-ngb-ng hood dikes
n-gga, look at yourself, tell your wife take my d-ck off her shelf
sway, know i didn’t thank you for this bait and all the jewels that you gave me
sitting up in the studio, all the records you played me
you told me i could dead the compet-tion
by being that part of me that everybody was missing
whole d-mn studio locked down, trying to listen
how can i entertain this feeling? being a young n-gga
told i would shake up the building, one of your favorite rappers ever paying attention
the greatest beginning could be the worst ending
p-ssy in the thought, trying to sit where i stand yo
the hottest n-gga out, unsigned ‘cause my pen broke
stuff you in the bag with that last loaf of bread
i probably be the main reason your packaging was dead
buying out your placements on i-tunes times two
but motherf-cker, day rapers trying to sign you
i learned about this life and what times could owe ya
some of your favorite djs living off of payola
i would never start my life till it’s over
the beef never touch my hands if it wasn’t kosher
never would of came to this if n-ggas know what they supposed to
with all the things that i been do, a vegan n-gga but veggies ain’t on my menu
not a bullet in your heart that could ever defend you
not a prayer in the world that your mama could send you
i swear if my generosity bring me a f-cking dynasty
that’ll be the day i throw up the roc ‘cause jay signed me, f-ck y’all n-ggas

- gilbere forte

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