Saigon - Spit lyrics

Published

0 319 0

Saigon - Spit lyrics

[Verse 1:] On your mark get set go The rest flow is just S-O S-O So am I the best I guess so I rhyme like my ribs and my stomach touchin Gain pounds on these clowns like a hundred somethin Behold the prophecy peep The mold in my philosophy deep Contemplate crime playing for keep Elevate and reconstruct got rhymes that erupt From my brain and then they drain right into a cup From which I drink then I think deeper in and it'll sink From a dark hall in my skull and then into ink That's a old school metaphorical phrase I sh**, shower and shave Then it's time to get paid get out of the way I'm like a bat out of hell how I'm hitting these hoes You swear a n***a just got out of jail I'm a MC slash stick up kid Ask Bishop all the sh** I did I ain't playing with'em [Chorus: x2] When I spit the room temperature change I am what many consider a spitter of flames When I spit the room temperature change What n***as done did to the game the sh** is a shame [Verse 2:] We could discuss disgust plus lust and what it does to us Not only bust cause I must I bust cause I love the rush Plus checks that I collect to bust techs at suspects Marksmen in the linen we don't come off as roughnecks Sick sick sick sick sick sh** The flow is flowing fluid like liquid Even jamaicans be saying my sh** wicked Ya'll should believe me I shoudln't even have to kicked sh** But look you still lying in your raps and Always acting like you dying for some action But we really know you not though You not no vato loco you a twat bro for sho I'm a get rich or die tryin like fifty Even if I gotta do something that tight risky Pa** me the hen b**h I don't like wisky My gun snap crackle and pop like rice crispy [Chorus x2] [Verse 3:] I flex on your entire set rhyme in nine different dialects Fire techs aim where your knee and your thigh connects I contracting like isometric exercise Let's collide last n***a that tried molecular fried Beside I can see in your eyes you petrifried I'm a let you slide without a lyrical hex supply Let's decide n***as fall short like a midget on a ball court Coming with that wack rap that store bought [Chorus x2]