Boldy James - 716 Mile lyrics

[Intro: Westside Gunn] Brr Ayo, brr Brr Brr, brr, brr [Verse 1: Westside Gunn] Ayo, everything we shootin' got scratched numbers (Boom boom boom boom boom boom) I bet I hit something, Hacksaw Jim Duggan (Ah) Got a ring on every finger like I'm brick pumpin' (Ah) Out the pot, yay wet like Trae Young jumper If they pull us over, don't say nothing (Don't fu*kin' say nothing) My chopper gotta owe you on the play bu*ton (On the fu*kin' bu*ton) Just dumped the damn bag, it didn't weigh nothing (Ah) Bricks white on white with coke in the Kate Hudson (Woo) Pump to your kids, what's the safe numbers? (fu*k is the safe numbers?) I'm Picasso with the paintbrushes (Ah) Twenty-three in drop McLaren, honey mustard (Skrrt) I came, Dame Dolla at the buzzer (Pew pew pew pew pew pew pew pew) [Verse 2: Boldy James] My youngin rag redder than a blood bath of roses (Woo) Allergic to blue steel, got a gun rash from totin' (Pew pew pew pew) Silent but deadly since he last reloaded (What else?) That stick'll part the Red Sea like the staff of Moses (Where we at with it?) I cleared 'em all out if they heard that window break and shatter (Brr) Extendo clips'll have you fallin' down Jacob's Ladder (Doot doot doot doot) Leave your mama teary eyed, instill the fear of God (Let's get it) Just the thought of me takin' his life make her even madder (Haha) Bob and weavin', boxin' demons, leavin' Exodus (It's on) Built for this sh*t just like my wrist because I'm pressure fit (Get 'em gone, Jones) Hook up a split, put on my mix just how my nephew wanted (Mafia) That ain't my brick if it ain't hit, I put some extras on it (Haha) Hold your funeral on your block, I put them steppers on it (What else?) Roman numerals in my watch, leather Corinthian (What else?) 'Fore I went in, was servin' white boys in the suburbs (Blocks) While I was down, I opened up the Book of Proverbs (Uh-huh) D.A. diggin' up old dirt to make them bodies stick (You know it) That's when I learned that cleanliness was next to Godliness (Blockworks) Long live Titus, we used to call him Uncle Fester (Blood) Remember cryin' first time I served my Auntie Esther (Titi) Twenty-five pints on the dresser next to the compressor (Press up) It ain't no pressure, ni**as know me and my gang purgin' (Gang time) Grammy nominated, me and him ain't the same person (At all) On a stack of Bibles, and it's the King James version (Let's get it) Church [Outro] Ain't that the word on the street FLYGOD That's the best sh*t Griselda by Fashion Rebels