letra de dalmatians - mediumjay
[hook: mediumjay]
back for another one, n-gga loadin’ up the gun
like dalmatians b-tch, i got a hundred one of them
(2x)
[verse 1: mediumjay]
step in the place point the glock to your face
f-ck around with the catpack you’ll get sprayed like mace
but with other ulterior motives, weapons are potent
bullets bouncing back you only see the sh-ll tip
met you on logan, you already know the slogan
i announce this sh-t before it happens, call me joe rogan
but i don’t need rogaine, watch the souls float away
these guns sound like thunder, pull it, now your in trouble
catch a couple, you’ll be placed 6 feet under
into a slumber, grab the shovel or some other detective undercover
cause i’m raping your kids, k!lling your wife and your mother
with my brother
[bridge: mediumjay (changed pitch)]
i got trouble on my mind, so much trouble on my mind
trouble on my mind, i got trouble on my mind
[hook]
[verse 2: patrick bateman]
oh no, it’s the catpack, a pack of half blacks what the f-ck are you laughing at?
f-cking punching n-ggers in their d-mn backs, i f-ck blacks over like my name was katt stacks
so full of myself, i’m full of myself, i’d be eating myself out if i wasn’t living on my friends couch
in the apartment, the b-tch shouldn’t have started, now her bodies getting hardened in the motherf-cking garbage
on top of the carpet, that i stole from your mommies two bed room apartment
homicides i started by the age of 3 by 5 i’d k!ll a group of wise guys
mikeg dude and the g stands for genocide, pretend to die
is what you f-ggets better do when your standing next to this guy, ummm
the packcat, we’ll put a bomb in your little sisters back pack
bring the pieces to your mom and tell her she can have that
your girl’s digging on me mostly sitting on piece
my d-ck is your girlfriends holiday feast, catpack b-tch
[hook]
[verse 3: mediumjay and cadence]
mediumjay
i’m a f-cking walking paradox, methods are unorthodox
who would’ve predicted i would’ve brought night vision when it’s dark
in your park, catch you when your tryna park
spray you down, you’ll be lucky if you can ever walk
ready like an eagle, eyes focused like a hawk
p-90 with the rubber grip so my firearms don’t lock
low recoil is a must, we bring glocks when we box
cadence
writers block cleared, homie i’m something to fear
all i do is veer, like a stolen shopping cart at sears
fix it up a little, shooting bark sh-t out my pistol
i’m coming out of my corner, no waiting on for the whistle
finish bottles of sprite, stomping hard in my nikes
busy writing bars, while you suckers be flying on with them kites
wasting time that’s alright, but don’t tell me to dumb it down
i’m writing them nasty verses, lack of words, go check the lost and found
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