Dub Muzik - Midwest n***a lyrics

[Intro: Bizarre] Yo, Big T, Bizarre Midwest n***as, I don't give a f** [Verse 1: Bizarre] George “The Animal” Steele mixed with Buffalo Bill Nine concealed, I'm ready to die for real Everybody, on Earth can get wet Sixteen Vicodin, fourteen Percocet Bad, yeah, spot it I get him Doctors, nurses, hospitals gotta admit it I beat a b**h down worser than Chris Brown Move the car into Illinois, how y'all with trey pounds? Loud sounds, AKs start to click (Pow, pow) Somebody got they a** hit Roll kush blunts, got me elevated January 15th, we still celebratin' Guns and ammo, I got a lot of toys A f**in' lunatic, I shoot my own boy I pull that thang, put two in your brain Yo Big T (Yo), my boy James remains (Biz), f** it [Verse 2: Big T] I lost my mind long time ago Not when I got shot, long time befo' So I sleep alongside a fo' With potato on the belt when they think Idaho They pull my card, I'd have known Shuffle n***as' decks, which way I'd a roll Masked up, make a lot of soul, [?], so I ain't liable [?] made a giant [?], fire hit him anyway he try to go Beatin' me is like Big Baby gone rogue [?] lane try to sco' f**in' slow, what else do you wanna know? I got no love for a f**in' hoe Kick rocks b**h, with your new boy drop kick, baby thrown in a mosh pit [Verse 3: Swifty McVay] Constantly sh**tin' on n***as, and I'ma pee on hoes They know lyrically, I keep a diary of flow And I'm exposin' you hoes like a picture You b**h n***as be usin' bra** knuckles for dentures I don't call her, aim at their brains like a zombie With a stainless steel and deranged army I don't accept sorry, your b**h be grabbin' on this dick like an Atari joystick A p**y as wide as a garage with five SUVs in it n***as mistake me like mirages till the beef's ended They love smilin' in your face on some fake sh** All in their necks n***as dick, and they love tastin' it I just wanna [?], the [?] on my outro My vehicle is laced with duct tape and a [?] I drive around the city as crooked as [?] Bust in yo' crib and blow your chest through the backdoor This ain't checkers b**h, this chess, you did not know? I check yo' mate and slap the snot outta nostril I'm pullin' your card hoes, motherf** that Benedict Arnold n***as scared to come around and get bombed on Remain frightened, like a popped condom inside of the vagina of a prostitute, dyin' from the common cold Quick to unload on n***as in an instant That goes for anybody that's ridin' on that b**h sh**, f** you [Verse 4: Kuniva] Much love, I give ‘em pounds and hugs When you walk away I hit you in the back with a slug Your main b**h is on my nuts, lookin' horny as f** Without wrestlin', she said she need my cobra to clutch On the roll with the .44 I'm packin' on the bus Baggin' up a bunch of bullets like I'm packin' for a lunch Packin' a punch, I'm Runyon Ave bred, get your mind right Or get it blown to the back of your head, now in hindsight Shouldn't have never tested him, blessed with a curse Dressed in all black like I'm grippin' a hearse, a clever specimen Captain of my regimen, take me to court And we can settle out of court for nine mill is what settlement f** you, the system, and anyone who be lyin' up Push your moms off the ladder of a movin' firetruck We the rawest, sniffin' ‘caine, puffin' trees And some [?] and the fedora, I'm grippin' the stolen [?] Blaze somethin' up, pa** the Hennesey or get your mouth split And your pops beat up out his bu*ton up We be clubbin' like Ice Cube, and get you jumped by a bunch of white dudes, stomped out with some spiked boots (f** you dude)