Body Bags

(feat. Cory Gunz)

I got my hand on my damn cock
Cause man, I copped a gun so big it could probably kill hancock
I’m not a rat, me? Talkin’ to the damn cops
It’s like Lewis Fericon eatin’ hamhocks
I’m a gorilla, but I’m slicker than a damn fox
Been cool since pre-school, playin’ in the sandbox
I’m a hustla, I used to hand-to-hand, ‘n I could stand on the block sellin’ gram after gram
And no I’m not from Japan, na’, but it just look like it’s asian in me, ‘cause I got the hazy with me
I been to jail, I got a couple hundred days up in me
But I still keep the HK, keep the razor with me
I ball hard, so other ballers is afraid to stick me
‘Cause if I get fouled I’ll probably shoot the tech
And you can be the next dude that I shoot to death
I wild-out, but if I foul out, I’ll shoot the ref
I’m happy when I’m in the coupe, but the roof depressed
‘Cause I always put them down in the trunk, where I put them now
I got dough, ever since O put a pound in my hand
I been the man, you should put the crown on my dome
I’m on the phone, havin’ conference calls, with millionaires
Yeah, look what I accomplished, y’all
And I ain’t tryin’ to take your life, I got a conscience, y’all
Plus the law send you up north, like a compass, y’all
I was seventeen livin’ out with youngers y’all
I sign the rough riders with a flow that was bonkers y’all
I can’t even lie, you could ask DMY
You could ask swiss too, SP and kiss too
You could ask DMX, the female pitt too
And they’ll let you know all the battles I had to get through
You could ask track and sheep, about how I had to eat
Thousands of motherfuckers up, yup, I had the streets
But ain’t no money in battlin’, and I had to eat
I could spit reckless, but I had to make a hit record
And now I make hit record after hit record
And I make chicks get naked
Like this check it,
I just lick my lips on some LL shit,
And then I make ‘em laugh, on some David Chappelle shit,
And they be on some let’s go to the hotel shit,
I Give ‘em hard dick on some just got out of jail shit
The innocent man, been in the can
But I never made a statement, never been on the stand
And I’m independant now, but that been in the plans
‘Cause it’s all about the benjamins man,
Real talk,
And you dudes can’t walk in my timbalands man,
And my sneaks don’t fit you, the streets don’t fuck with you
I sip champagne and I throw back shots,
And I smoke pot the color of a Apple Jacks box,
I rap but I sold crack rock,
And had the block jumpin’ like the frog on the honey smacks box,
You dig ‘em?
Body bags