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letra de stormin tha gatez - terror reid

[intro]
f-ck you then, b-tch!
yo, hey yo

[verse 1]
it be the animalistic, s-d-stic, cryptic mystic with the mega ballistics
check the statistics
i’m stealing your sister’s digits
rippin’ timid midgets tippin infinite whippets
sitting back, developing cataracts fast, from all these trash millennial wack rap acts
oh, you call yourself a g-ngb-ngin’ thug
counting stacks and making racks off your trash raps, b-tch relax

[verse 2]
we all know
you’re still at the home with both your folks
you never been poked, you never f-cked those hoes
you never even held a gun before
silly b-tches pretending they whippin’ sh-t in the kitchen, well listen
go and find your daddy’s shiny gun rack
grab the biggest gat and make it fast before he comes back
good, now find out where he keeps the bullets at
you’ll only need one so don’t grab the whole f-cking pack

[verse 3]
welcome back to the real deal, it’s a whole meal
i’m the illest motherf-cker who won’t hesitate to break the seal
stormin’ the gates
it’s back to the basics
i’ll let you taste it
then peel your face, just face it
cus’ i’m the quickest sh-t since the invention of the wheel
i never f-ck with b-tches who ain’t wearing high heels
so kick back and witness the sickness that is this
it’s terror reid up in this
i’m writing a prescription

[verse 4]
find a comfy place, where you can sit down, now
load a clip and put it in your mouth and bite down
but before you go splat, think back to another time
where motherf-ckers actually rhymed and crossed the line
man, i’m sick of this sh-t
can’t understand you when you spit
but when i can it’s the same motherf-cking subject, p-ssy
lean, backwoods, gold chains, and xanax
n-body gives a f-ck how much you spending on your amex
well f-ck that sh-t, b-tch i’m snorting motherf-cking anthrax
chop it up with an axe
kick back, relax
i’ll beat myself with a bat
cus’ i’m a maniac, in fact
i’ll ask your f-cking b-tch to spit if i want a comeback
matter of fact, that’s only half my ill intentions
i’ll teleport to the morgue and have a dead corpse convention
and after all that
sh-t, i’ll hang up my hat, and say
if you can hear me dawg, please call me back

[outro]
we’re sorry, you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service

- terror reid

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