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letra de razors from the stereo - wavy da ghawd

[verse 1: rome streetz]
every time i crimp the mic, get ready for your burial
stereo razor blade flying out of your stereo
rhyme bout my crime, life, various scenarios
put the gun i ain’t near your nose, if you dare oppose
beware of smoke, feel like a chemist when i prepare to load
life gave me lemons, i turned into everclear and gold
debonair and bold, these squares fold like origami
they hate the lord and you’rе the grimy
you lost running through the royal new york mazе blindly
get your head knocked off by a shorty for less than a nine piece soccer to my pocket, need both of my palms greased
before the crack hip-hop and the powder coke is the r&b
money is the a, best friends, sorta like don c
shoot the snake skin off your fitted, you try to harm me
quarter a, y ‘all loop long, shoot calmly
i don’t get the whole climb, walking away with a large piece
i made a fortune off my phone, made even more off my mentality something these n-ggas never saw

[verse 2:plex diamonds]
for our n-ggas who sold rags and women who were stuck
no need to serve up a plate when you shaking up every store hotboxing with the eye of a tiger
more abusing than distributing, when will you staff up as the supplier?
shoot up the dancehall, brother used to goose with n-ggas before he went and played handball
breaking up the swipe, seven days, seven nights
you only die once up in this life
yo, word to everything i’m about to sell
close the store and steal the packs, send off like a private sale that’s the final tell, saving the faith or rot in jail
instead of a mismatch, it’s a kickback
sorry, not sorry, don’t hustle like god’s son and damien marley should’ve never even made it this far, there was nothing for me we’re not even this free, in this far-reached life adam and eve, but that’s another story say goodnight to the bad guy
well i’ll find out what happened to kevin
lord, i swear it’s taking off, mad time
too well if you ain’t know, you gave your dad’s pride
gotta get rid of the hard times and bad vibes
[verse 3:o dawg]
can’t know in cabal how my n-ggas masked up
you ain’t no match up, zips moving, flying past ya
to leave you gassed up, put it past ya getting duped if you act up first a trapper, turned into a raw rapper
laid the league down for four quarters, get your ass up
off the short, the bottom of the dog, we can get it on
four backwards on these opp n-ggas, heard this is war
kick in the door, only thought is to slaughter
spraying in the action on the scene, it’s a horror
double e shorts, when i hit the lane switch
real men is in the rent-take b-tch, dog

[verse 4:madhattan]
no battle rapping, they battle rappers, don’t ride the wave
carry medics in army jackets, we not afraid
i’m not amazing unless i’m looking in my father’s face
bargain bas-m-nt prices, have me with a brick and carving ace this ain’t target practice, i be with the sh-t
i’m flying, got a buzz, plus i be with the sh-t it’s obvious as sh-t, they ain’t bosses, they on a ship
play sick, i say sh-t, got the matrix, bout to glitch
this top rhyming, the top dogs, that pop sauce
genuine as gucci kicks, sitting next to knockoffs
glizzy on the hip, y ‘all choking over hot dogs
spit like i drank a gallon of ghost pepper hot sauce
yeah, it’s f-ck you if you ain’t with me
living dangerously up corners with the masonry
that’s why this called not a a to b
these rappers still hating me, they girl m-st-rbating me
[verse 5: chyna streetz]
god told me don’t look back, ain’t no reason to be salty
four friends faulty, playing both sides like minota
looks like this father let him paint the f-cking town red
now you b-tches wanna rap, pp guns on bust left
if they not around, don’t ask me bout them hoes
it’s clear they wrongly chose a conqueror
no matter who oppose, i cruise the open road
freely, here’s a freebie, you can never be me
hardly see me, hustling to bake me in feets
you all sk-nky like ruby keith the way it goes, i’m better than you surrounded by some gentlemen who get the paper from blue
the game ain’t new, i’m on stage, you in the bleachers c
could never reach us
ironic lessons teachers used to get teased for my features
now my features get me paid, you belly belt who getting laid

- wavy da ghawd

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