Hot Karl - Blao! lyrics

[Verse One: Fabolous] You're lookin' at the rookie rapper With a years biggest itcha rows Yeah this n***a switch his flows Yeah I dig and switch his hoes Hear them n***as snitch to po's Where a n***a pitch his blow And how my hustle gross is near that n***a Richard Po's I share my figures with the hoes I'm where the digger stitch his clothes It's ghetto F.A.B.O.L.O.U.S I got street legend, fame I'm the kid known to put the Colt to a bredren's frame Like he's Edgerrin James Y'all stash guns I carry 'em on my waist Ya part time piece Aquarium interface The hood rat Hugh Heff, loungin' on ya in the Rolls The project Playmates, around the corner centerfolds I'm constant hated Listen to the nonsense stated But n***as can't sh** on me like they constipated I briefly conversated These doors sittin' on ten times two Mami what's so complicated? Ya heard? [Hook] [Hot Karl] Blao! Explosion, game on lock Hotness, drop this, it's that sick hip hop It's like blao! [Fabolous] I'm a coast to coast G, keep the toaster closely So duck deez motherf**er Blao! [Redman] Said it before, ready for war With my sawed off shotgun, hand on the pump, pump Blao! [Celph Titled] Slap my gat, I ain't hear to talk You wanna make it gutter I can throw you off the sidewalk [Verse Two: Hot Karl] It's like Karl, Pac and Biggie is the greatest to rhyme Problem is, this list only exists in my mind So instead I listen to your style and keep laughin' You beatin' me rappin', that's like Jim Abbott clappin' That'll never happen, I'm sicker of course Then droppin' a dime Like Shawn Kemp's child support Look at all you kids, underground and straight shook You ain't gettin' signed like nerdy kids yearbooks I'm gettin' second looks but the industry is sh**ty Cause I'd rather die than ever sound like Chingy Right Thurr Come on dawg You ain't gettin' robbed Cause it's uneven, like Dru Hill on a seesaw Yo, you don't want any bad blood in-between us Like we're standing right next to Magic Johnson's intravenous [Celph Titled] It's Hot Karl and Celph so if you wanted a hit [Hot Karl] You can peep the famous guys and fast forward our sh** [Hook] [Hot Karl] Blao! Explosion, game on lock Hotness, drop this, it's that sick hip hop It's like blao! [Fabolous] I'm a coast to coast G, keep the toaster closely So duck deez motherf**er Blao! [Redman] Said it before, ready for war With my sawed off shotgun, hand on the pump, pump Blao! [Celph Titled] Slam my gat, I ain't hear to talk You wanna make it gutter I can throw you off the sidewalk [Verse Three: Celph Titled] They say cause I don't believe in Christ that I'm misled Been shot at twice but never hit I just miss lead Get it right, the name's Celph Titled Straight out of motherf**in' Tampa Leavin' enough gun smoke to give you lung cancer Plans for your album? It's best if you lose those Shoot up your M.P.C. and you gonna find a few loop holes We sellin' bullet wounds, havin' a wholesale Leavin' complex patterns all in your head so you know braille And so frail rappers, y'all ain't Dance With Wolves Just swimmin' with sharks, when the hammer get's pulled Any witnesses? Who's tellin'? Nobody The perfect crime, no autopsy, and no body Without a neck you can't rock that chain No way for air to get to your brain Another murder for this Cuban to claim An inconsiderate a**hole pissin' on you What else you expect? That's what a dickhead do [Hook] [Hot Karl] Blao! Explosion, game on lock Hotness, drop this, it's that sick hip hop It's like blao! [Fabolous] I'm a coast to coast G, keep the toaster closely So duck deez motherf**er Blao! [Redman] Said it before, ready for war With my sawed off shotgun, hand on the pump, pump Blao! [Celph Titled] Slam my gat, I ain't hear to talk You wanna make it gutter I can throw you off the sidewalk [Verse Four: Redman] Yo Doc, pee on your floor I'mma be on the who*e Till she knocked out, then I take a G out her drawer I'm a thief, on the streets you might be in the morgue Doin' a chicken of course, I take a key out a Porsche-ah Box 'em in claustrophobic I'm a pro y'all, know this When sensing y'all controllers Grown men is talkin' This the fast lane, move over to the margin It's over when I walk in "Doctor" on my license plate The front of my truck resembles Mike Tyson face When I pull up to the club, the buildin' shake Hoes start runnin' out n***as start runnin' mouth I'mma bolt the door and security the area Got! We molt floors to secure the Dillinger Yo Doc! You want war, I'll be sure to bury ya The more the merrier, but your Blao!