L-chronic - G-hirsty (freestyle) lyrics

Earl puts the “a**” in “a**a**in” I threw a wish in the well/ Don't ask me, I'll NEVER tell You signed to one n***a that signed to another n***a That's signed to three n***as, now that's bad luck I'm a alien, I hope you ain't the Prince of Bel Air If I told you I k**ed a n***a at 16, would you believe me?/ Or see me to be innocent george you seen in the street Had a dream I was king, I woke up still king Have you ever had s** with a pharaoh? Put the p**y in a sarcophagus Braids like I'm O-Dog My friend is by my right I won't sugar coat it/ You'd die from diabetes if these other n***as wrote it Man, I got so much sh** up on my plate dawg What she order, fish filet? Pull up your trousers this world is Mario find a realm You getting blackmailed for that white girl And you up against Bowser Fall back like Lebron's hairline against the Mavericks, he lost The Nets could go 0 for 82 and I'd look at you like this sh** gravy Ball so hard mothaf**as want to fine me I'm with your girlfriend eating chips Um, stop the beat, b**h I am the truest; name a rapper that I ain't influenced Why every rapper named “Big” got bodied? But every rapper named “hirsty" got money? Well I guess my chances are 50/50 But my vision is 20/20 so I be counting a hundred 100's Triple-homicide, I sit in the back aisle I wanna crack a smile when I see him Throw up a fist for Black Power, cause all we want is his freedom He grabbed a court officer's gun and started squeezin' You blame your own shortcomings on s** and race The mafia, h*mos**uals and all the Jews It's hogwash point of views, stereotypical Anti-Semitic like the foul words Gibson spewed And it's pathetic You might think you've peeped the scene You haven't, the real one's far too mean And maybe other rhyming words like cabbage and savage And baby carriage and other things that match it This beat is good enough for Shyne If not J. Cole, your sh** is trash But at least my opinion just made everyone laugh The square root of 69 is 8 something, right? Cause I've been tryna work it out My Santa Claus was missing, catch you slippin' then it's Christmas/ Motherf** a wishlist, my ghetto was ambition Making crack rocks outta p**y n***a fishbones I made it so I'm chillin' now Transparent ceiling now But I feel like I'm 6'8" Bye Rihanna.. now back to y'all fools Yeah, this album is dedicated To all the teachers that told me I'd never amount to nothing Im ballin', Amar'e A nick sold in the park then I want in What's a king without a crown, n***a?