No. 8 (feat. Westside Gunn, Conway & Termanology)

And now ladies and gentlemen
A legend in his own time
The one and only Statik Selektah

Yeah, you know who the fuck it is
Y'all niggas pussy man
I see it
No wonder you walk around fuckin' mad all day, you broke!

Ayo, Statik Selektah
I got these niggas strappin' their vest up
Bitch niggas get to talkin', then I'm grabbin' the Heckler
My OG's said, don't let these rap niggas stress ya, uh
Especially a nigga you had under pressure
The Mac on the dresser, it had a compressor
So you don't hear shit when it clappin it wet ya
Out we lurking all day, and if I happen to catch ya,
two things, black bag or a stretcher
I'm back and I'm fresher, never been to college, nah
Never had a professor, but I just got a package from Hector, whoa
I'm straight nigga, writing down a set of weight nigga
But I'd rather be in the studio going apes nigga
You just a rapper, stay in your place nigga
Before I had the goons blickin at your wraith nigga
Stay in your lane and be safe, nigga
Or get hit with the 30 in the face, nigga

Ayo, no soul bitch sold my shit
Your pockets got holes I guess you're cheese, all swiss
Let me squeeze tech got it running like boat, nigga
White stripes on the fatigue coat
Fear of God high tops
My rhyme's got a clean, buy a drink
But your lady gets time stop
I never idolized no nigga, never!
Never been shook of no nigga, never!
Took over the phones in the building
18th street stabbed the nigga a million times
I've seen it with my own eyes
He lost a bet on the Giants
All you seen was chunks of that nigga flyin'
No CO's, somebody need to mop the shit up

Ayo, It's a stick up
I'm in a castle blasted, throw you in a bath of acid
Every word I spat is classic, ratchet in the lavish fashion
I turn a shooter to a moving target
Trying to cop a Louis carpet
When I do this shopping for this new apartment
The leather MCM bag, it got dabs in it
Molly, Percocet, the piff and acid tabs in it
I'm just a vandal, with a hammer, with a broken handle
Rappers is broke, I'm going home to a Naomi Campbell
Virgin Mary in my bed with a holy candle
Holy water in my bathtub with gold Roman sandals
I'll rock a room but I'll be rockin' all across the globe
But rewind I had a stocking on ready to rob your gold
I'm quick to smash a cutie, even if she bad and boujee
Monogram Gucci, jacuzzi, now that's a future movie
I'm Benny Blanco with a weapon running by the train
Silencer on the smoker put gun powder in your veins
Hopped a lot of planes, rocked a lot of chains, clocked a lot of fame
And you lil pussy boys not the same
100 bottles in a week, celebrating life
Gave the door man $100 just to shake the ice
Pussy, I'll take your life from you with the rusty eight
Earthquake your soul when I'm busting with this Russian K
Selling eight balls your boy made a ton of cake
Now we puffing eighths, getting blunted to this No. 8



Credits
Writer(s): Brady Watt, Patrick Owen Baril, Daniel Domingo Carrillo, Alvin Lamar Worthy, Demond Price, Nurtil Rhaburn
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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