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letra de 400 degreez freestyle - kevin gates

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[verse 1: kevin gates]
see me i eat, sleep, sh-t, and talk paper
trynna get it out the mud, gotta ball major
took a stand and won’t slip
demanding i don’t flinch
i’m the man with the cannon, i’m blaming the whole clip
now my pockets like the hips of anna nicole smith
why you mad about the camera?
cause [?] flicks
love my b-tch
so i rub her cl-t
lick below her pearl
feed her ferragamo with diamonds
and mikimoto pearls
out of state with the paper plates
breezy in the car
say she only play kevin gates, weezy, and the squad
leaning in the beamer think i need to get a job
tennessee with senoritas where we frequently ménage
paint a picture
i’m not into belligerent gold diggers
equipped with a cold trigger
and feelings for no n-gg-
i do it for the bottom, i spit until i’m out of breath
and you gotta wipe me down like foxx i’m not myself

[gates speaking]
come on, we gon get it out the mud this year
about to hold church in this mother f-cker
it ain’t easy in this mother f-cker
kevin gates what’s popping
breadwinners -ssociation, let’s go

[verse 2: kevin gates]
vacation, i’m awake right after the long mission
knuckles to the pavement, scr-ping my bone gristle
but i’m still here
got a problem with lil’ kids
my acknowledgement of god was not in an ill sense
and i follow the apostle it probably could be a sin
a dot in yellow [?] i’m popping a steel fifth
what it is pimpin’?
never been no duck n-gg-
see me with a drum, better run and duck n-gg-
keep my name on your tongue, what you want me to f-ck n-gg-?
i was made for the game, you was a mistake
other rappers ain’t safe, coolers in the face
b-tch, until you turn blue, but who’s f-cking with gates?
progressing
the rest of you haters will die stressin’
dead game pimp, pay attention to my aggression
get on any n-gg- track i’ll eat it and digest it
go get any n-gg-, ask, he agree that i’m not reppin’

[gates speaking]
for real, you know you got to come to grips with yourself
learning is taking place
any beat a n-gg- go get, i’m gonna’ murder it

[verse 3: kevin gates]
it’s something about me, i know how to peep out the projects
frequent misunderstanding, the sickest n-gg- on pyrex
you talking about a lawyer fee
metal object hard to squeeze
horribly they harbor me, too afraid of the message
mind moving methodically, some would say that i’m reckless
smarter than most, the problem is they placing misconceptions
i’m gripping a dumb pump
to spit at a dumb f-ck
and i lift up a dump truck
bullets tangle every angle
i sling them like nunchucks
basic one in the chamber, i’ll mangle a chump guts
get the ring on the pink, gleam when it’s seen
mean color sheen on the rear running boards
k!ll something in the seersucker, deer hunter orange
life of the squad
seven summers hard
you ain’t special, same present for eleven other broads
i f-ck with d n-gg-
because he’s a street n-gg-

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