Jaxon - Smokin' Aces II lyrics

First things first, What up to Tripp and Dope Clique They can k** a whole infantry with a simple bullet What up Jax, shouts out to Overdose Gang Nearly k** all competition, it's a comatose thang Smokin' Aces 2, Grab Tripp & Jax like a case or two Bag of that piff, let that acid rip, grab a gla** and taste the fruits Of my labor, cater to myself, keep sh** sharp like a sabretooth Break some rules like his face, your face, f** it, even a vase or two Life's a b**h but I know she's got mace so move Give the crowd a little bit of AHHHH laced with OOH Hate to do this but I'm pa**ionate about my music, yeah these dudes are ruthless A pair of shooters, a bullseye on the competition so f** your shooters Every chance I go in, knowing that there is no end In sight, no chance of slowing so when that wind is blowing I might, make the roof the floor until that ba** hits the low end Tonight, might leave this b**h smoking tonight, sm-sm-sm-smoking tonight Smokin Aces 2, back on the track trying to raise the roof Looking for a motherf**er, got the slingblade and the razors to Carve my niche like a slick cold blooded son of a b**h Just wanted a kiss, now I'ma run this sh** til I get a shiv in my ribs Looking at dinner, watch me enter, only giving it a minute to live Success is iminent, just need the internet of degenerates to generate lift Look easy to be a jobber til you see the dude can't work for sh** This opener bout to become the main event, k**in 'em merciless This is your first offense, It don't make no f**ing sense You must really not know what the hell you are up against Looking tense, looking scared, paranoid that you ain't prepared Painted red, I must inform you that there aren't no angels here Angel hair, demon on my shoulder, I hope you came aware That not one of your peers tonight is leaving here Alive, only rock with my team, roll with a loyal bunch Kings of the table games, laying down a full house or a royal flush Jaxon- I'm goin in like I'm base-jumpin, I wish a n***a would say somethin n***as hatin' Get Dish Nation'd, That's Headkrack'd, straight pumpkin' Ridin round trunk stay bumpin, Snow Bunnies I stay thumpin If I don't got it, I go and get it, Been the hottest out for 2 strait summers I say it's music over everything So I stay on point like a bulls-eye They too weak to touch my flow, I guess you could say they a fort night And I'm one month So you have to be retarded for thinking you matching me You actually about to be a casualty chopper blow your brains all on that half of the street I blew up but who want this beef with a n***a I still bring it to ya I knew ya before all this rapping you call yourself doing lil n***a, You still is a loser If I run into ya We chanting out WorldStar, So you better run for your life There's bout to be f**ery going down, Back up what you said on that mic See this ain't bout proving nothin cuz I don't really got sh** to prove I'm a foreign n***a in a country that don't even want me, I ain't got sh** to lose But I'm still here, Freddie Kruger I en still fear All us rappers started from the bottom, Only difference is that ya'll still there Hashton Kush muh f**a Tripp Shelton- Tre D get the Swish lit, put it in the air Gimmie a beer we fittin to get it in gear Anyone who ain't already livin in fear Better get cleared, or get fitted for veneers The last n***a you wanna get pitted wit is here Lyrics'll have my critics in critical care Acidic wit it when I spit this sh** up in your ear If I spit it to your chick, she fittin to get speared I rule with an iron fist, I run DMI This sh** is my Tiananmen square Bow to the throne pay homage at the feet of the belligerent Ignorant, n***a wit the beard Through the rearview mirror look at my career Me and n***as get into it, then they disappear You ain't heard Young Dream or Tripp Marxx in a minute Muthaf**a minute in years I get rid of em, Im a menace to, society sinister Imma ride til I finish ya I'll get high from the cries of the innocent then sit by while They eulogize with the minister Im headlights in the eyes of you venison, everything freezes In the presence of the microphone Jesus Otherwise referred to as the sleeveless genius You muthaf**as are JV B- list Im straight A's Dean's list with the leaflets Suicide if this the team you pick a beef wit You can get your whole team ripped to pieces Labels ain't on my side but the streets is Even if the prize out of my reaches sh** on these emcees til they deceased Die muthaf**a die Rest in feces