letra de clipse - so be it (remix - kirk jr
peepin’ who blowin’ up nowadays, and who ’bout to make it
i’m starin’ at ’em growlin’, waitin’, salivatin’
when’s it my turn? i’m outta patience
i’m tired of waiting, i’m tired of whack n-ggas blowin’ up
and i’m tired of hatin’
don’t give a d-mn what your words worth
you speak the word “kirk” and you’re cursed
your words blur, like you completin’ a word search
even with a short verse you get beaten and tortured
this heater an introvert because it speak, but in short bursts
we ain’t to mess with fleece cementin’ his death wish
left dead fish on ya steps if you ain’t gettin’ this message
yes, his dеath on my checklist, left his legs, and his nеck split
broken; damaged, like my fam is, ’cause my ex b-tch
i told the hoe, “goodbye, go away sl-t,”
guess i’ll replace ya
i’d invite a b-tch inside the place based off how the face look
you came to hang with a gangsta, ya favorite game must be danger
she gave me brain in the wraith, kicked her out the wraith, then i raced her
heh, she’s quite the chaser
i tried to pace her
i told the b-tch to move, or i’ll move you like a skylar grey hook
south l.a. in a towel laid up, that’s how my day look
and the only way i’ll have a pay cut is when countin’ paper
ion see an ounce of supporter in ya, don’t call this trap but i’m cornerin’ ya
pull this am like “mornin’ n-gga”
and plus the gun go f-ckin’ dumb, like it got faulty triggers
we pull up, we shoot all sorts of n-ggas, like we schwarzenegger
they might pull a bb gun or two, but we be really huntin’ dudes
they want me in they clique, but ion run in groups
like ojs hand, i mean i could fit in if i really wanted to, but i rather grab knives, then gaslight after gutting you
give a sh-t if it’s a compliment from you, i’m dismissing you
when you compare me to rappers ion even listen to
first i’ma find a beat that i’m smitten to
then i’m splitting you imbeciles into two
you get ripped and chewed, and then spit into a vase
i’m up with the greats
i’m uppin’ the fee
“kirk you’re up there with-“
shut up, they ain’t even up there with me, (boom)
and plus i come with the team (yeah)
how you gon’ f-ck with the fleece (how?)
we like a public disruption (why?)
b-tch we ain’t nothin to see (nah)
you comin’ with me, you finna ride in the front seat
’cause n-gga, where we goin’, you gon’ die if you lucky
you thinkin’ i must be suge, or i remind you of puffy
this lyrical fentanyl, b-tch, you gon’ die if you touch me
the fleece is gold, like my seat to my throne
and we three have been known to weed the sheep from the goats
this house of hip-hop, i got my keys in the door
and you a guest that’s why broke n-ggas sleep on my flow
it’s k
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