[Freddie Gibbs]
Yeah, Yeah
I know you feel it right
I'm bout to k** it right
I know you feel it right
I'm bout to k** it right
I know you feel it right
Yo, f** the dumb sh**
I step off on this motherf**in' jammin'
Got my package i'm bout to get this motherf**er slammin'
Give me 6 for the zip, I need 22 for the cutie
65 for the whole enchilida, that tootie fruitie
No this ain't a movie but all my sentences cinematic
Yes I started rappin', wrappin' the crack in my n***a attic
Flowin' to myself and next thing you know it was automatic
Rap is full of f*ggots so i'm ecstatic about my status
Straight gangsta razor in the mouth sh**
f** all the love songs that keep Pee Herman outfits
I get my thug on cause that's just what i'm down wit
n***as raised on food stamps and public housing
Cause my poppa was a copper so other children didn't wanna play with me
Had to go extra harder to show 'em there was no fake in me
Dealers, k**ers and bakers relate to me
Cause I never been a b**h or a snitch, smokin' gun can't alpha omega me
Hustlin', I got that sh** from my uncle, pimpin'
I picked it up from my grandaddy
I'm from the ghetto not Degra**i, so I
I rapidly spit it and give 'em the visual flow in the same rhyme
I'm out on bail and on probation at the same time
Motherf** a P.O. and all his police amigos
I get slammin' in that caddy, like slab (?) bumpin' that Z-Ro
Went from Brooklyn to the G with a key of D in the GO
These n***as singin' like Ne-Yo and takin' D on the d-low
Snitches pointed out my spot to the people but i was ditchen' em
Once I hit the fence I got the dippin' like Harry Dickinson
Sugar sick and demented for Benjamins
Same n***as that sh**ted on me and didn't pay attention
I got 'em listenin'
Gibbs, n***a