Cut Father - Go For Mine lyrics

(Cut Father)[Talking] Yeah, from the top..I dont think they know But as if you didn't know by now Ill Brothers, Swollen Members, (Buc Fifty),T2B Fam It never stop...Too many ducks in the game now Its about...time we evaporate all you muh'f**ers for real No doubt, We live to spit the real (yeah) We live to spit the real (uh) (Cut Father) Line fanatic Attack rhymes leave damaging foes Who appose Cut Father Couldn't manage to erase me out the game Southeast 6-1-9 battle veteran Into competition I Victimize verb spray, ghetto wordplay Take sh** back to the days of K-day Ready rock, Babylonga chest non-stop World domination f** curves serve ya' block South Pacific, Scientific cause panic Spittin' lines to rep for the flaw see eyed planet Ya h*mos**ual rap cats can scratch that Gun play for gays fake thugs fake ways Thoughts are generated never scared to start spittin' Dont hear nothing but the music im slippin' Ill Brothers..ever evolving ducks fallin' Into rhyme relapse these rugged tracks Mad Child (blaze) spittin real pine chalk In memory of Rob One cuz he can't be stopped (Chorus)[Scratched] (Mad Child) Swingin' the axe Bringin the pain while I'm bringing the facts Keep climbing cuz I'm working while these others relax Rippin' tracks with Cut Father no bother half steppin' Mad Child and Buc Fifty thats 3 deadly weapons Reppin' the West Staple a Maple Leaf to my chest Thats 16 bars between stars and stripes Used to go to malls and fight Now I stay up all night Thinking...mapping out my future cuz my families tight We keep it thorough I get inside ya head just like a neuro-surgeon There's some my origin it's discouragin No fadin' this Canadian Hurricane Keep flourishin' doubt this how's this? I put my money where my mouth is Jobs for North and South You dont know nothing about this Partners starting to label Label the rock for the unstable Terrifying talents Of the mentally unbalanced King of skull-crushing confusion That welcomes any challenge (Chorus) (Buc Fifty) I can handcuff lightning throw thunder in jail Hold tornadoes in the palm of both hands without bail For fade-away diggin bomb...I am phenomo-nail If I layed on train tracks I'd make that sh** da-rail Hold still I'm so ill I make medicine sick k**a bricks so my head split while I'm playing with this Stylin' till I'm ill I'm good and well done with it You a broke wrist rapper with a full flavor pack of Jimmy on the breath sugar footed crew dat back ya' Gimme a reason to step up to ya fools and jack-jackas Backpackas out-ac-actors that can stacksa casual factors While I keep ya whack whackers (Chorus)