Hook:
Nigga I ain`t got no feelings
What the fuck you think this is?
I got no reason to live
So make your mind up
What you wanna do?
I make your family be missing you
Nigga I ain`t got no feelings
What the fuck you think this is?
I got no reason to live
So make your mind up
What you wanna do?
I make your family be missing you
Verse 1: Slop & Patacico
Dustin` you off like dirty finger prints on evidence
Battlin` me ya dead like presidents
I`m Fresh like Prince, Jazzy like Jeff
The man just like Meth,
Crazy like Left plus jams is like Def
Wid a pen I`m king like Kurupt,
When I throw a style you betta duck
If you don`t yo ass is outta luck
Don`t fuck, wid the masta,
If I have to, the I`ll blast ya
Then go to church to see my pastor
Why ya have to be like this
Me and the mic`s tight like
Gladys Knight and the Pips
This year my son turned six,
Yo style`s wack and you need to get that shit fixed
Representin` Jersey my raps hittin` harder than bricks
[Patacico]
I`m iller, realer,
Than ya local drug dealer
Come to my villa,
Meet the nine milla,
Lettin` off,
Where I stop you gettin` off,
Make you feel it juts like Latifah`s kiss in Set It Off
You want war come on,
Put on the boxing gloves
People call me an artist in the canvas
Cause I draw blood,
That`s what`s up,
Wid the shit I manouver
Hit the losers wid a Luger
Than lay up in Aruba
I`m gon` be rappin` till you motherfuckas get sick ah me on the mic,
I`m sicker than ten niggas wid HIV,
Tracy, had the cico, the freako
Holdin` heat somewhere on Wall Sreet wid Sloppy Joe
You hear me though?
Hook
Verse 2: Slop, Patacico & Kurupt
My name is Stephen
I eat MCs for no apparent reason
It in you if you skeezin` I`m pleasin`
Those who dare,
I advise you not to stare
You be assed out like a flat tyre widout a spare
I declare war before I had to even the score
You got me hot like sand on the shore,
I`m runnin` the floor, like a ballerina,
I go back like Flava Flav in cold Medina
I get honies to make you say You seen her?
[Patacico]
I`m pregnant, but only in my mind
Hopin` my baby rhyme grows up to be a triple platinum album
I fell on, using the steel to do crimes
Smoked so many niggas they put up no smoking signs
Charismatic asthmatic, ballin` like Madden,
Cream, automatic attractive like a magnet
Speedin` like car racin`,
Cream like carnation,
Burned out my Playstation while cats be scar facin`,
Hey old lady, sorry`s all I can say
By bills got me lookin` at pocket books, in a different way,
Fox got the bubbled eye Benz-o
I`m in the back of Kurupt flex truck playin` 64 Nintendo
[Kurupt]
Get peeled, skills in the fields
Raw dog raw deals,
Niggas either ill, fake or real
Penetrates I only heard ah tens and thirty eights
Ride as the niggas turnin` states and flippin` crates
Get lift like weights,
Bust and radiate spreadin` infections
Murderous mafia connections
I wanna feel touched like feelings
Start drillin` start ampin` out,
Hittin` wid autos campin` out,
Wid autos innovative calculative creative
Touched nigga, hectic, wid a couple seconds
A bust nigga, from a distance I can peep a fuck up
You on the Ave wid nuthin` but cash to get stuck up
Man them diamonds y`all got is nice, hot
Never seen cowards wid so much ice
I got blocks to get all that`s got behind the scenes
Sellin` glocks, tech nines, sixteens and magazines
Zines, zines, zines.......
