Araab Styles
Styles P
3:01Bullpen, G-Host, D-Block If I say so myself, we the best When the lead pop, it's headshots, you don't need a vest D-Block, LOX, we don't see the rest My blade cut a thousand niggas, that's a key of flesh You either (-) or (-) squeeze the TECs I blow a smoke with the Ghost, bars speakin' death I keep her wet, straight cash, yo, I'm 'bout paper Pay (-) bars, every line another (-) Bullpen style, kill you now, rhyme later I clip from a block away, nine with the laser They can hate us, but they know they can't never play us We heat-sprayers, plus you know the streets made us Live life to the fullest because death is waitin' Too wild of an animal for domesticatin' Get a room full of rabbits and I'm defecatin' Fully-loaded gun, no hesitatin' I heard your gangsta rapper name resonatin' We don't believe you, you'll never make it Discipline - the term meant dedicated Educated, actin' on medicated Weed high, liquor high, drug dealers, stick-up guys LOX, Wise Guys Enterprise You ain't got to cop it, we got you, you could rent a pie God, forgive me for contributin' in genocide The cranberry Beamer, MAC-10 and the nina Smokin', visions of Mecca and Madīnah Mobster, kill you, send a fixer and a cleaner You look scared, lil' nigga Don't start hangin' 'round here, lil' nigga This shit'll get you the chair, lil' nigga We makin' ourself clear, lil' nigga You look scared, lil' nigga Don't start hangin' 'round here, lil' nigga This shit'll get you the chair, lil' nigga We makin' ourself clear, lil' nigga Nigga, we in here, it's me and (-), lodge 'em out the bullpen Remember gettin' processed, sittin' in that bullpen Thinkin' to myself, 'If niggas rattin' and some bullshit I'm comin' home dumpin' out that clappin'-up-your-hood shit' I had dreams of gettin' hood rich This year, approachin' six figures, life good, bitch And I admit, yeah, I love fuckin' a hood bitch Give her good dick, she ridin' out with that wood grip The front page of them tabloids About paper, known for movin' grams and mad toys Real nigga never back down, quit the fight I lose, I'm like (-) when he told (-), 'Hit the lights' Speak the truth, know these frontin' niggas can't stand facts Pops taught me Santa Clause wore a Klansman's hat And he rolled through the night like the Klu Klux So I flipped Os of the white for a few bucks Yeah, I guess I see what they can't Do what they won't, then have what they don't Ride to work raw, where the work, y'all, I sit and curse, y'all Lodge the bullpens, Clayton Kershaw Lookouts in the buildin', play the first floor Yeah, it's D-Block, nigga, we come with the pain Gonna cause straightjackets and shackles and chains If it's drama, come and get you, ain't callin' your name We roll up on you like them niggas that howl in pain