RandomBlackDude - Guild lyrics

Writing for a minute, i ain't sparing no seconds Haven't spoke to God, though i'm calling like a reverend Jomie Crew, for union, man, that motto is irrelevant Down for whatever, if we talking dead presidents Young Nautic. Silly faced, with evil tactics Sleeping on him, now i'm tearing up the mattress Shifting like the phantom, random sightings in the distinct In contact with my mind, though my rhymes seem distant Pen is in my hand, the casket's what you model Speaking loose-lipped, cause the half empty bottle It's fine though, cause ruckus when we find dough Heart near gone, rib hollow, so my voice low Bra** knucks, got him out, looking for trouble If you come clean, make sure my part is doubled Do em all dirty, leave em, worse than some rubble Spit hard, rivals only allowed to mumble Not judgemented. Leave the house all bummy Looking for new girls, harder than stars above me Using my gritty bars, for the fact I ain't lovely d**h ain't caught me, opened the can abruptly Chugged the liquid down, got my problems all out Bringing bodies in, more than that cash into count Name heaven sent, but already know i'm hell-bound Holler in the night, while y'all don't make a sound Way i spit hard got them feeling all chagrin Like really though, who's really to test him? Leave their self esteem dim, less than a prelim k** em in a min, then stand with a big grin Track clean, beat nice, flow swift Calking out the track every time you hear him hit Saying damn! Cause they know it's about to happen. Competition void when they see him start rappin Busy bittie maccin. Busy opponent smackin Busy coming in, while the rest sent packin Keep quiet, cause this is not what you want Sicker by the moment, different doctor by the month Girls say they hate him cause his actions is blunt When they say they love him, all he do is laugh or grunt Skate, penny, biking, a bunch of us Spending randomly with my parents' bucks, it's apparent huh? I want label cuts. Though i'm spitting mad hard, i'm still making none So, we in the streets with the heat trying to make profit So catch my hands up or in another man's pockets Or packing up the dope, and the chronic, to sell for the low Then claim i got the money fast and honest