Frank Dukes - Outta Control (Well-taught) - 0 to 100 Freestyle lyrics

[Intro] Yeah If hip hop is dead, then these verses are ghost-written Jovan [Verse 1] I like my rap hardcore and my beef raw Stuntin' like I parkour Bustin' into backdoors Bringin' on the mac dose f** any rapper that lack prose his mama and his dad's hoes K.dot i'm hula hoopin with your bar sh** ain't really that hard I'm underwhelmed, ask for help I spit razors Hotter than spice i bring flava Well-raised the hell-raiser Yeah I been on that sh** for years Shut the f** up! I don't take sh** from queers I'm fierce if there's tears than jovan was here Richer than lear, my words is cristal clear Many roofs boy i tear off Smirnoff Hittin till I clear off Canada goose and grey goose The animal's loose Armani shoes, more booze, Bugatti cruise, mind fuze Don't "wa**up" my crew Leave you hanging on the noose I got strange fruits Sauce and juice Step up in my kitchen with them bulletproof suits With them duce duce Turning em to couscous Ah! [Chorus] Tommy gun to your tummy son We gon' do it right Tommy gun to your tummy son We gon' do it right [Verse 2] Lyrics so sharp that my game on point With bars as solid as Guantanamo joint's You lookin at the man that brought hip hop back Slaughtered again and fit its pieces in a ziplock bag Step out the benz full of cougars in a jag Flaunting skull flags Tick tock to the clock, boy that toe tag Your mama should've named you jane doe Worldplay insane tho Who gon top me Drop me nah not me You wishin I was dead Jack all my style put your name on the creds But i'm alive and well, bringing trauma to beds Bottom reds I porked ya bish like she was part of the feds Like jones nuttin but jug and head I'm only undercover when it comes to chicks yeah I'd rather immolate than testify I'm finna show you pigs can fly Yeah So many punchlines, it's a crime I'll leave ya face full of bruises at every rhyme Michigan, we gon exit your exodus Rocks wit us, 0 knocks hit us Rocks is nuts More carats than Bugs Bunny The kind of sh** to make your huss naughty For nothing bruv just gunny Insane you'd swear my tunes looney Writing rimes that make the moon gloomy Darker than a snuff movie I don't bluff homie I don't need s*uts roofied I just jump out the buff subie Cashing checks like bodies Crossing white names off black-lists, cause rap taught me Hun!