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letra de i'm not a rappah 2 dvd freestyle - reed dollaz

[verse: reed dollaz]
young reed, southwest representative
philly philly philly i’m stepping up the center with that all-black beretta bruh
let me put some lead in ya’
and i got my blade too, the one that was on predator
i be wit’ whatever bruh, grinding, et cetera
n-ggas getting robbed too, i gots to get my cheddar up
here’s reed i’m in the game and i’m about to f-ck it up
you f-cking nuts you f-ck with us you f-ck with us, f-ck is up?
wait, let me switch it up, i’m about to rip him up
he ass, and he look like trash, i’m ‘bout to pick him up
four-pound sit him down, ar lift him up
give it up you digging us, now giddy up
rearrange, split him up, bury him, dig him up
top klass n-gga what? y’all could never get wit’ us
reed i’m the general, reign he the captain
with nh-h, kaboom, n-gga what’s cracking?
eddie he the monster, bricks got the mi
mi, got the semi, on you then fly, let 10 fly
caution the soldier, riding with the toaster
i say ‘f-ck ‘em’ he gon’ buck ‘em until it’s over
d. jones better pump his breaks
i haul off with the sawed off, pump his face
you coward, too hard we run through y’all n-ggas
we trouble men you doublemint, we’ll chew y’all n-ggas
screw y’all n-ggas, fat boy better get his head straight
d. jones falling on joey, i call it dead weight
40 cal up in my pants, i ain’t snappin’ dog
only time you see me snapping, i’m clapping ‘matics off
we could have it dog, jones we could bang it out
when it’s beef, you ain’t know, that i’m the one they bringing out
i’m a pit, get a grip, leave the meat, hanging out
you’s a b-tch all your life, i’ll show you what some pain about
don’t look at bobby, he ain’t gon’ help your ass
44, 40 or kick the door, melt your ass
don’t call haddy, homie do your own sh-t
you joey lil’ clone sis, dollaz on that grown sh-t
y’all cop cars and clothes, do it for the b-tches
we put hard in jars, ride with dirty biscuits
big sh-t, i’m talking ’bout dead heaters
you out on the strength of your man you cheerleader
n0body likes you, you make me wanna fight you
you look like a fat ass turkey, i wanna slice you
i don’t even know the reason that haddy piped you
just another one of my kids i say goodnight to
lost on star, trey pound long
blow the doors off your car, insides on the tar
you can’t get gritty now, ’cause if i was on star
up in jersey i woulda never let my city down
clown-ass n-gga, sweet like candy
remind me of brandy, wanna-be-down-ass n-gga
you see we movin’
this take me back to d-block when they came hard at g-unit
kind of bizarre, the burner got h-ll in it
slim shady dude plus the d got 12 in it
toast man, postman, move like a snail wit’ it
blocka blocka open your chest, you got mail in it
yeah, real street movement
we leave the rappin’ to y’all, ’cause we really do this
check, you ain’t never had a gun in your mouth
you ain’t never had 30 n-ggas run in your house
tie you up, put a sock in your mouth
make your moms get on the floor, put the chrome pipe to her scalp
i don’t wanna hear had and i don’t wanna hear your crew
and i don’t want had to write it, i wanna hear it from you, boy

- reed dollaz

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