Phonte - Rap n***a lyrics

[Verse 1: Big Sant] I rap n***a And I ain't talking about gift giving I'm talking about living the gift of spitting Riddle my competition with ammunition no pistol could emit Still enough to leave 'em missing I'm suggesting that you listen, closely, most folks is phoney Greet you like the homie and later act like you don't know me Throw your name in the middle like Monie over money Think it's funny 'til you find yourself crashing over dummies They asking for me to spit, I tell them n***as to rap Night of the Living Dead I'm existing off naps I don't bicker with b**hes or b**h a** n***as in fact Wanna hang in Mississippi I can give you some slack Kicking chest from under other rap n***as you wack I'll lay my game flat you can have your spot back Caught that a** slipping now I'm swimming in your misses Like I'm white water rafting, coming up for air gasping She s** it like a vaccuum, I ain't even ask for it I keep her at the bottom like my Mac dashboard Wanna keep your baby momma better Honda Pa**port it To the closest ATM, this is real life extortion With real life results for trill minds of course Dead conversation, and pile up the corpse But I'm miles away from Davis Street That's where I cooked up the first batch of bad luck for any that challenge me Gap tooth, fat n***a, rap like an athlete Hogging up lanes cause there ain't no pa**ing me For real, say the wrong thing and get slapped Who said n***as from the south can't rap? b**h [Verse 2: King Mez] Giving them words about the south we make them pay attention Went from hearing about them now and then to everyday they mention Yeah And how these record labels trade positions Moving they offices so they closer to the Mason Dixon How that happen? All the credit from rapping Supposed to go to the n***a with the northern accent and the Yankees jacket But n***a see now, try to front and you senile Better believe we got the key now, for real I'm on stage and a n***a light up, on instrumentals black out Opening any shows can make your headliner back out On celebrating achievements later talking with Rap 'bout I'll only floss a little, I won't be pulling no plaque out Cause lil' n***as in my city often hold the mac out Teach them 'bout onomatopoeia they can tell you blackat! Blackat! Blackat! Blackat! Now that that's out Is money worthless with no purpose, just service so backout Aye y'all be talking 'bout somebody changing I put money up, I leave the game from the door I came in Too many rap n***as lame so I speak in layman's I speak my hieroglyphics, no one to decipher my paintings So what's the point of me aiming? Yeah You rappers praying, say "Amen" And thank God for existing In that ignorant lane that I be letting you stay in For real [Verse 3: Tito Lopez] My real rap n***as know what this is Down south n***a Still influenced by the Nas, Biggies and Kiss's Vicious on the mic, that's an understatement Cause I do on accident when you n***as would call flagrant That mean I hit the hardest b**h and I ain't even trying Ain't even lying, n***as hate me, they even crying Like how the hell he get a record deal? He ain't had no buzz Don't worry 'bout it ho that's what Lo' does Been 10 years since you heard a motherf**er this nasty b**hes be catching orgasms just from walking past me They tricks, just like every ho up in the hood Taking dicks, and I ain't talking no sporting goods I'd be rich, if I did what all these n***as is doing But history I'm pursing so miss me with all that lame sh** Danger from the start, got anger in my heart Switchblade make ya b**h-made n***a play your part It's southside 'til I die, that's a part of me Car bomb flow, I know they wish they never started me Ga**ed up in that Nav truck needing fast bucks Got a lot but need a little mo' like an old Fab cut Have but one job, represent the mob G-P-T, flex and get your a** robbed Now tell the truth, you ain't seen a n***a aspire A bad liar, swell up your jaw, Quagmire I pa** by ya, three tires and a donut My backside dipping like so what Never let me slip cause if I slip then I'm slipping But when I get on this mic you n***as know I'm straight tripping Ripping And I'm not just a rapper, I'm really just starting I wear many hats like Cole on Martin If you see me, know I got them underdogs with me And I'm steady screaming Mississippi Tito Lopez [Verse 4: Phonte] I'm giving n***as a crash course On how to take it back to the asphalt We the task force, ready to blast off And eat a n***as face like Pac Man on bath salt Another plane another stamp in the pa**port Another marble mouth n***a with a gla** jaw I say listen up, Hip Hop been in the south n***a loosen up the straps on your Jansport And let 'em know what I stand for Raw Carolina n***as spit butane Tigallo sing a hook like Lou Rawls Turn around and kick fly sh** like Liu Kang If they ain't got a budget I ain't budging Get your paper cousin, maybe we can do thangs I spit game for them n***as that's a slave to the rhythm And slave to they bills dawg, two chains Riding 'round and I'm getting it Carolina bound and I'm living it So now you might wanna gather round your constituents Play along, say the wrong thang get slapped Who said n***as from the south can't rap n***a