Wordsworth - Games, Dames, and Automobiles lyrics

Yo check it out (one time) Network Reps, Punch and Words (Network Reps) Have just a**embled Pay attention Aiyo forget gettin busy, a brother stays productive Makin what is turn to was cause I must give Steady hits, get ready kid, I'm leavin dead zones Rough sounds, they got bloodhounds tryna peep the set Emcees get bent, for fackin jax then, I make it happen Street event, major attraction, paper a**a**in Workin while you relaxin, hurtin my back and never slackin You get broke on my brake, no joke I take action Carshin spots like tidal waves smashin rocks Never got gla**es locked on cash and props, I'd rather not Instead dashes hot like cops blastin shots And I realize that, for the most part, no heart emcees Try to deny facts when the flow starts, to get a bit More complicated than the rhetoric that they kick Cause K mixes concentrated elements is evident And obvious, when my lines drop, that instead of just Watchin this, I got they minds locked without postin bail Confrontation, you better off droppin Coast in jail Chorus: If you don't know, then I can't mess wit you (I ain't messin wit you) If you steal flows, then I can't mess wit you (I ain't messin wit you) If you're a chick from the show, I probably left wit you (That's right, I slept wit you) If you ain't tryna roll, forget the rest of you (I ain't stressin you) [Car screeching] Enter the over proof sleuth calculating whose Fakin in the booth and still rakin in the loot Son slide in opposite stances, spread my vibe like its cancer Lock horns with the shadow dancer, the neck romancer Who contorls the track, never holdin back Deflatin gas n***as from a swolen cap Understand, we got no room for false plans Come in like a lion and you leavin like a lamb, sacrificial hand You wanna strap the missle and bomb the holy land You're not invincible, just a lonely man I know the am-ba**ador of a rappin tour has to score So I'mma blow shows when I'm pa**in your vacinity You'll be gone quick like virginity, first you wanna be gritty But now you're silk and linen me, I'm skimmin the Profit of a prophet thats false, you need to stop and halt Meltin ice grills like I'm droppin salt, its not your fault How could your frontin a** know, livin next to your enemy Like Kennedy and Castro Word up Network Reps (Castro) Takin all your cash flow Y'all don't know (educated you a**holes) Chorus: (1st half) [Phone rings] (Wordsworth) Now let me fill y'all in on details, how Words tip scales I got some females at Yale that send e-mails Faxin'em, I get cash to spendin from gasin' women Got the guest lists and pa**es to get in Began junior high, freshman adolescence Mirrors on my shoes, lookin under girls dresses I'm eager to rhyme, arrived in the clothes I slept in We got nothin in Common besides only Resurrection If its about women, in one ear and out the other All's fair, long as s**m don't come out the rubber Everyday I wake up and take a morning piss Hide my p**no flicks in a box of Girl 6 Hara**ed by former chicks, that perform in whips And out my crib I got kicked, forgot mom came home at six And I know why you feel shame, cause I can call your girls crib Sayin its Words, while you use your real name [Punchline] And its a damn shame, that they got caught frontin Sayin you nice, when you can't rip the function Plus, you take credit for the next man's production Puttin yourself in weird positions like f**in Metaphors is raw, in ciphers you fear it That's why I only hang wit n***as who got lyrics You beat around the bush and just talk off an ear While just keep it brief like tight underwear I wreck crews when there's nothin else to do It seems your ego is gettin the best of you sh** you never knew, you about to learn We got dope beats, you can't produce like bad s**m To whom it may concern, we droppin the bomb We real, you fake like a prosthetic arm, address the mike with charm Watch Punch crush it, the Moet lifestyle with the 40 ounce budget Now just hush it and don't say nothin I dedicate this to the ones that be frontin (Cats be frontin in the game know what I mean Break it down like this y'all) Chorus 2X Punchline wit the rhyme Network Reps Big Met Words Engineer on the boards Underground hip-hop be the new day baby Comin through Its like that Rotten Apple