Marcus Peake - Ha**an Chop lyrics

["King Just" scratched up] [Chorus 2X] Ha**an Chop! Yo, I can't stop Givin you that off the wall hip hop Ha**an Chop! Yo, I can't stop This the type of sh** that you pump on your block [King Just] Off top, I came to blow the whole spot Solid as a rock, my whole style is unorthodox Astronomically bait, to a state Where I create rappers rate, snatch ya bodies like the dirty mate Wait, til you hear the next album drop Cuz this sh** right here is strictly for the block Put your hemp pump co*k, licka shot if you wanna Especially if you drink beer and smoke marijuana I'm a goner, to this world of society That's why kids admire me It must be the sounds that I put in ya ear Crystal clear, have no fear, in any mic I tear In half or to pieces, my style is so ill That my middle name should become Jesus Oh please kid, this is off the wall terror A new era, man, I got the illest sh** ever Whatever, if you wanna bring it, let it be brought And I'mma watch the Mob hold down the f**in fort (Hold it down) And show 'em what my sk**s can do Real n***as represent from the muthaf**in Zoo [Chorus] [King Just] Don't f** around buck-o, I'm stickin like stucco Uh-oh, better get makeover, rhymes is Play-Do The cradle who rock the hand, I'mma slam Du-Ra-du-Ra, spinnin like Rodan No man can hold me down, I'm like Conan The Barbarian, muthaf**as, I'm crushin 'em They can't uphold the King Just touch of gold Now everything I drop becomes a heavy load I explode on the road, doin shows Givin pounds to my bro's, chasin after big ol' widows They know, that I got this rap sh** lock From the Desert Oasis all the way to the Hilltops At the speed of a hat drop, I make you move ya bumblera And make Two-Six buck shots, boy, you f**in blood clots And why not, must I make the music? As if not man, yo, I just might lose it Don't confuse it, we all in the same game You don't know me, you just know my name Was it the fame, that made me insane in the brain Drivin this track like a runaway train All aboard, Shaolin scored We goin on a world tour, raise ya hand if you're sure [Chorus] [King Just] Now who's true to hip hop? Cuz if not, I throw 'em in the headlock And smoke pot, like if I was raised in Woodstock The hand cot, got me mesmerized Cesstify, look at the red in my eyes Oh why, must you test the best of this rap profess And guess that I would settle for less Yo, I'm stressed, and it keeps buildin up What the f**, roll up, hold up, throw up The stage, my face is on front page Now I'm a rage, they let the Zoo n***as out the cage Watch me raise, and burn sh** up like the inferno Thoughts so deep you need to write them in your journal Ask the colonel, my sh** is finger linkin I'm flippin, and ain't enough sh** til I put the sh** in 'em And strike like the 5 Deadly Venoms, and dead 'em Forget 'em, f** 'em, turn around and uppercut 'em For frontin, talkin sh** and really wasn't sayin nothin [Chorus 2X] [Outro] A new era, a new day and age Off the wall hip hop Raow, raow Once again, peace ["Ahh" scratched up]