April O'Neill will be a shell of herself after I shred her! Thug girl who fly and talks so nicely Lemme feel how the head is Baller convention, free admission A lot of people couldn't leave the streets alone You leave me no choice but to be my own CEO That's a miracle like the wicked queen with a tricky scheme But I ain't Five-O, y'all know it's Nas-Yo Aw, made you look I'm paddle boat, how did I make enemies? I'm like new Adolf Mengele, I have to cut that foreign A paranormal energy field selected this method, Word to Yah, word to Ra, word to the horizon, I send work out to Georgia, it's all peachy though, I'm so West Coast I'm still thinking about taking a shot. The snakes in the grass and the rats in the sewer died We was putting travel bans on niggas before Trump They shoot me, should be my theme song Take the mask off, played to death: I am Future Counting easy dough tryna keep it low A paranormal energy field selected this method You lame brain, I'm going deaf towards you ABC niggas I don't flush my kids in toilet in despair Yo, I'm redirecting you retinas to read the message suggested You missed the hardcore shit? Word to Yah, word to Ra, word to the horizon Maybach Benz, back seat, T.V. You think on different levels on the same plane A lot of my people know The phrase heavenly, make melodies change energy I gotta eat, motherfucker, that's why I'm ready for Steve Jobs with the mean bars, your freak moms My reflection talk back to me, my mirror cool / God's Son, what up? You a slave to a page in my rhyme book Work hard, play hard, this a fucking motto Newness here's the Anthem And I ain't talkin' about a map maker I'm on the tenth floor in a ten-story building, gettin' a happy ending So you can see how I come pissed off Gettin' Big money, playboy your time's up I send work out to Georgia, it's all peachy though So it's top notch, get the crotch please, it's diamond in a sea of glass I got Raven Simone and Oprah's notifications on [Verse 1] Now get up off your ass like your seat's hot Gettin' big money, playboy, your time's up Yo, I spilled my guts last album and y'all thought it was suicide I got the apple in my palm without a vivid stream To those crowds pretending I cannot be seen Listen, y'all got it twisted, dreadheads And read the Bible backward it make Jesus throw stones If you jealous then I get the stick and clap you, kid You a slave to a page in my rhyme book (Turtles!) / D-Block, what up? I don't get respect on streets, that is fucking killing me You'd snitch in 16 minutes with the footage from the cam You don't even know the plug from the outlet Is sticking out like a sore thumb Get money, leave the beef alone slowly Reach for chrome, to each his own Grey goose and a whole lotta hydro No rest for the wicked, if my time is money I wish a nigga would man, I am Groot In a stinking Lincoln rocking the pinkest mink I'm getting my dick licked by thick bitch [?] While y'all talkin' to goons, poppin' all that tough shit to come get you [Verse 1: Page Kennedy] Beat the shit out your loved ones, let 'em bleed there Soon as you said it, you regret it So cats have starved, they ain't rob folks Rap president: I wrote this on a page, Kennedy! I should do a mantra, I'm a monster That make scrambled data appear in formation Talking eastside shit on the speakerphone This the blood that shooters share on a feature song Gritty voice, friend or foe, say the name, cunt! Where them gangstas? Time out, you need to find out how much your casket cost In a white tee lookin' for wifey You're an erect bum that haven't grown a pair So I hold the llama tight, send you to Satan or Christ Make your predator sound regular after this And you don't wanna be a jailbird Dickhead on some shit, that's a rectum, with the boner there I beat the shit out your piñata, choke my Nikes with necklace Triple 6 God My nines'll spit, niggas loose consciousness. Music blare, you in the ether zone Swing around like you stupid, king o'the town, yeah I been that I hope you find a new profession or you gon' go through depression Mastermind at its finest, feel this fucking heat! Coke's all white, you think it was bleached by Ichigo ], episodes I saw good times Slipping out the exit, dipping out in they Lexus Journey through the dark side, get the fuck up! Made You Look (Remix) Lyrics: I need it from the top / Ahh! Hustlers, dealers and killers can move swift plasma On my baby mama life, pussies fuck with the bread It's all good man, just call Saul Goodman You wasn't family if we feud (Missing Lyrics), Who Shot Ya? I want to slit your wrists, I want to cut my face KXNG CROOKED, I win and you lose, couso But that's what you get wastin' em So who's frontin', hit the snooze button, they confused I'm a street fighter Yo I get a pie and sell it them and get 'em robbed Infinite amount of rounds in this mighty pen All my bitches get to the chicken, they paper long And when I did, I dry-humped the cameltoe That I ghost busters, I don't mean paranormal detectives I ain't known gettin' shot was a badge of honor A moment of silence for Prodigy Especially when you a pussy like The L Word, word So when I rhyming bars it's like popping with the Magnum off Hustle hard everyday saying fuck to problems They shootin'! Wit, with conviction non-conventional Rappers try to match how clever I get so whatever I spit Then I turned into Happy Days for all the chachis who tried to block Like a real thoroughbred is, show me love Who the fuck run it? Pull out my waist, the eagle fo-forty, I see niggas runnin', yo my mood is real rude My girl made a small wonder and I filmed it on an Android I turn that bitch to a sewer rat (Missing Lyrics), Victory Is Mine At Jay for that line in "22 Two's," couso Let the beat play, know who am I, punk? Shit's Breaking Bad in the hood, man (Missing Lyrics), The Boogeyman You know I click-clack where you and your mens at? You in for a spanking, I enfocre thinking A team of killer MCs kill everything in sight, Welcome to Detroit Not the triple X bullshit, this is my life Stay laced in the best, well dressed with finesse But don't pass your presence I've reached my peak without me looking through my hands Every invitation to fight you punk hazas Where them dimes at. [Verse 6: KXNG CROOKED] As soon as the beeper's on producers flare Advisory - the following lyrics contain explicit language: Uh, uh, uh, now let's get it all in perspective Shit was all good just a week ago Just die, I digress, I digest information Twitter fingers and gangsta writers I'm grinding white, Madonna white, hit me (if) you tryna find the white Let the music diffuse all the tension Lyrics to Made You Look by Nas from the Hip Hop Forever, Vol. Don't get it mixed up, just so we clear without being EQ A different story when them hollow points hit you I send you back to Jamaica Girls get close, you can feel where the tool's kept Y'all appointed me to bring rap justice Push the pool stick in your new crib, same hand that you hoop with Fuck the civilian bitches, they ain't shit for me (Missing Lyrics), Hop in your nightmares with the mask on and Jason 'em, You lame brain, I'm going deaf towards you ABC niggas, I sound ill on the mic like breaking news. Not a biter, you fly on the web and I'm a spider My bars raw like a condom strike I'm Earl Manigault to periscope the antidote Daylyt thought I was fronting, I wasn't under pressure 'Pac's saliva landed on a camera, that's the way my Cannon spit Get my dick sucked and calm myself with the violence If you ain't from the 90's you won't understand this shit Haile Selassie ya, ha Madman on ya roster wan' [?] No reason for your mans to panic Guess how anxious I become when I mix these words? This story ends will tell you how the story ends Even on a laxative you ain't with the shits, bitch Remember when I couldn't bag a hoe with a fly rump Machete time, I won't shoot you Make sure he a thug and intelligent too Mobsters don't box, my pump shot obliges 3.5.7 was part of Hammer's clique Unless you past the presence of pastors blessings I know about the streets because I played the crook Where them dimes at? Snatching rappers, we on the forefront You better abandon ship, the predator anarchist Tell your boyfriend "come and get on my level", I'll be right up We can drive through the city no doubt For your knees, and shit like toiletries You don't want to see no ambulances They shootin', sike, I made you look [Verse 2: Elzhi] Yo, I spilled my guts last album and y'all thought it was suicide The snakes in the grass and the rats in the sewer died I keep my chest like gas stations unleaded, fuck you And you ain't been the same since I slayed you, shook They shootin', Aw made you look My word so bond, if I proceed to go home [Hook: Nas (x2)] Some cats rob folk and they still starve 'cause the niggas that they rob broke Took me some verses to get it like the Book of Esther Where them gangsters at? Crooked I, too many loose screws, couso I bash my head with the radio and become a creep Cuttin' to reporters getting camera time on the air Only describe us as soldier survivors You grew up with it but ain't never beat Wayne She'll look like Heath Ledger after I bed her Ultraviolent saga, Alex, high-five These key sells get me shells like Obama wife Through electromagnetic compulsive verbal aesthetic Whatever it takes to get this cash, even start a war Got a degree of grass like [?] Where them gangsters at? And make payments till I make arrangements to clap it off Thought the point was to make other rappers goners Get out my face, you people so phoney Is their measuring stick, yes, I'm the ruler, Crooked. So somebody shot 'em, a lot of my people gone [Verse 5: Cassidy] It's time to bring the classic rap shit back, muh'fucka The better the rapper is the better the beheading Aw, made you look I ain't know a hard nigga could be this soft [Intro] [Verse 3: Mickey Factz] Pac’s saliva landed on my camera, that’s the way my canon spit, sounds more appropriate according to the reference of spitting… it plays double. Copyright: Writer(s): Salaam Remi, Jerry Lordan, Nasir Jones Lyrics Terms of Use. I'm fuckin' with your food in a lunchline Put your hand up that you shoot with, count your loot wit' [Verse 2] Too Biblical for the lyrical Came and blew hair like she seen larger screens This the I test, I guess, I am Proof I bust on you dickheads like when the condom tight
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