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letra de back on my shit - rj payne

[intro]
“termanology”
check
“melks”
it’s payne
i’m ‘bout to smoke this motherf-cker
check

[verse]
back on my sh-t like i never left, rappers are b-tches, i never rest
packaging piff in a everfresh, mac with the clip and the leather vest
stacking my chicken and cheddar next, malcolm at the window, that’s the letter x
bullets airborne, b-tch, leather necks, from here on, get your feathers wеt
i’m still on the grind, my n-ggas still on my mind, b-tch, i’m ‘bout to go k!ll them this time
i’m planning your wakе, caesar, the planet of apes, sh-t, i got gorillas in line
still in my prime, they see me drumming, lord tariq with the heater, we’re peter gunning
buddy, come get the liter, your meter running, chopper sound like a ton of the zebra coming
sh-t, i never been lacking at all, i keep my back to the wall, splatter your dogs
n-ggas been fiending for dope, my homies tell me the streets been having withdrawals
i had to evolve, no way no magic involved, load up the ladders and all
shatter your skull, all of these rappers are dog, get buried in back of my yard
dopest alive, listen, just soak up the vibe, i’m focused, i woke up at 5
a soldier with pride, burners got multiple sides, approach it, get closer to god
roll with the mob, this what i’m ‘spposed to provide, like ho, this a whole different vibe
totaled your high, bullets hit shoulders and thighs, b-tch, i’m bout to go to dubai
this is the difference between us, we’re playing in different arenas
you could hate, but your b-tch on my p-n-s, got a k and she thick as serena
this sh-t sound like a brick in a beamer, in the kitchen, they whip up katrina
f-ck a plug, my vision was cleaner, tell the judge go get that subpoena
see all that capping sh-t is laughable, this rapping sh-t is tactical
run up in these labels like them crackers did the capitol
you lacking, i’ma capture you, clap at you for attitude
classic, n-gga, full metal jacket worth of shrapnel
i’ve risen out the dead, feeling like i’m jesus
i’ve been giving out my bread, look at the pigeons i done fed
you n-ggas been misled, that will get you groupies hurt
little uzi vert had something shiny sticking out your head, yeah
i might roll an l, but i ain’t taking one
i serve them fresh, bullets burn your chest like jamaican rum
your favorite rapper’s favorite rapper, i’m their favorite one
we’re waving guns, soon as the laser done, then the razor come
payne
[outro]
it’s the f-ck i’m talking ‘bout
we at you n-ggas every week
aye term, you keep sending them, i keep burning them the f-ck down
eimg
let’s go

- rj payne

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