letra de sns freestyles on flex | freestyle #079 - sns

[verse 1: sns]
malcom had fury, x show fury
only way you pushing my b-ttons is if you tahirih
i’m just on another level they ain’t reach yet
the n-gga they ain’t beached yet, just getting my feet wet
i take shots at anyone but i don’t battle rap
making these arms wave across the chest like the cabbage patch
they can’t dance on the beat, they flow got two left feet
if i’m the feature, you amongst the elite
look, even when i’m tryna keep the peace i’ve gotta keep the peace
always in your bay, she nicknamed me keak da sneak
ok, they wanna see me die anyway
just to pick the date with the devil, they gon’ pick any date
look, i secure the bag, they want likes and laughs
i ignore the rumors that they put on blast
got a tight hold on the game like a vise grip
used to break at night sh-t, now it’s that taking flight sh-t
i don’t know what type of time these rappers be on
full suicides on any beat they put me on
that’s athletic, the gunpowder is cosmetic
beef stop when your whole body is prosthetic
in harlem, we mad that we heard you said it
not apologetic, leave you photogenic in the paramedics
no clubs, bartenders doing calisthenics
got a whole clan full of dirty b-st-rds with mad methods
him or her, my ghost face smells danger
chefs take thirty six through 36 chambers
sit your five dollar ass down when i tell new jacks
make your hip pop with the shots that go boom bap
these rappers internet tough, they really scared
any n-gga tryna insta-diss me gon’ be a dead man
then i run up on the stage like it was my show
with a snotty nose and that .38, my little roscoe
please tell me why all these rappers tryna be pac though
pac got k!lled by some n-ggas we still do not know
rest in peace to him and big, compared to them, y’all little kids
mumblin’ about nothing, rocking purses and sh-t
who raised y’all youtube n-ggas?
dr. seuss rhymin’ ass blue’s clues n-ggas
young harlem n-gga boy, i’ve been outside
we war with n-ggas and still kept my chin up high
look, hustlin’ and no slack, that been my grind
lost some n-ggas to the street but i ain’t lose my mind
advantage is when you glow up
no envelope, we ain’t fold up
n-gga, you don’t know us
how can you lames expose us?
still the same n-gga that harlem shaked at the kennedy
but put some n-ggas right on now that you tryna finish me
i brag real different now, flex, i’m grown
like how my pops ain’t set this up, i did this on my own
the day i realized i’m in a lane of my own
we told hov to his face i was coming for his throne
i hope he listening ’cause i’m still coming, still gunning
k!lling all these rappers and wait, jay, i’m still hunting
just had to have a conversation with bigs, homie
giving free smoke to drizzy drake with the sig on me
most of these rapper n-ggas might tell the pigs on me
constipated ass n-ggas know they can’t sh-t on me
that’s a no-no, fat joe and my .44
piggy bank about five o’s
think about it i know
[verse 2: sns]
i said sns, harlem horror in the spot
throwin’ two guns up, i was signed to the lox
look, talk tough, guns go in mouths like a root come down
we shoot and leave the club smoking, no hookah lounge
these n-ggas, gotta get rid of them early
got to clip ’em ’cause i don’t like these n-ggas like donald sterling
my g-ngb-ng ratchet leave every scene tragic
keep one mac behind the t like the old magics
type of clothes i buy, you can’t sell
coincidence, the rappers of today, you can’t sell
go shoot you and your mans so your crew can’t tell
had to hit ’em up style, that’s blu cantrell
look, rolling up mary jane, freak moving alicia keys
tie lead off on twelve gauges, looking like r&b
while hoes bad santa with the clique, adam sandler
you playing i’m with the game’s been missing santana
front on me is unlikely, i’m quite established
ice put the heat through your body, no fire challenge
the way a baby wanna live my lifestyle is insane
stoner, bunch of young thugs in my rich gang
a bunch of colors that don’t make sense now
it’s f-cked up that the boys in blue k!lled mike brown

[verse 3: sns]
they call me the black benny blanco, icy gang’s honcho
it’s too many slim jims for me to act macho
from a town where there’s more mournings than alonzo
the way i ill-strate, i’m like basquiat, picasso
a real bully, these n-ggas is nickelodeon
sweep ’em like a custodian, dynamite, no napoleon
hoppin’ out a range froze and hang foes and bang bros
you stink hov when i change clothes
different hood but i live by the same code
even to the teachers in the school n-ggas never told
when they tryna take your life you should never fold
youngins holding heat, fistfighting, getting old
i put my pen to the bad, write some sinister jabs
to record labels i’m delivering bags
toes in the tag, tape’s on the scene
from a city that never sleeps, they plot for the green
i was taught to remain loyal make ones with your team
and my verses are jordan but my hooks are kareem
little n-ggas in the field like that they get k!lled like that
and the streets middle east, it’s real like that
look, murders in front of ocks, witnesses call the cops
n-ggas live down the block, beefin’ about the plot
after every party a new teenager getting shot
for beefing over a girl or bragging ’bout what they got
look, old heads come home back to the kitchen
all they know is trap, so a job is no decision
daughters getting thicker for their very own child
got to stuff some mace in a purse in case of a pedophile
facebook get you snapped, watch what you quoted
of pictures of guns or paraphernalia you uploaded
i told my little sisters don’t make me backhand ya
little girls nowadays, freaking on camera
pain is poverty and when you go through it alone
pain is knowing that your man never coming home
pain is pressure and pressure is a lesson, n-gga
i hope y’all get the message

- sns

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