Millennium Thug (Edited)
Ayo, I'm yappin' these jewels, clappin' these dudes
A straight born killa, it's QB Borough nigga, untamed gorillas
Niggas that put holes in squealers, dope dealers
I see police flashin' through my rear view mirror
Put the brick in my waist, tighten my belt
Safety off the nine, they gotta kill me for mine
I'm flaotin', left lane open where I could get through
The cop blazed the pistol, busted out my back window
I skidded out, now I'm outta control
Slammed on the break and shot out the rear do'
I'm hearin' ambulance sirens, I kept firin'
It's gotta be them 'cause I ain't dyin'
I'm bonin' out, bit the top off a Guinness stout
Pour some out, Bravehearts no doubt
I glove niggas, uppercut thug niggas
Look at my mug, you can tell that I'm bugged niggas?
Why it feel good to be real and reveal who's fake?
Why y'all niggas got the girly mouth? Why we feel great?
Why y'all look mad with a frowned face?
Why the hoes love the Gods, Bbravehearts, Nas and Nash?
Why them Bravehearts roll hard with nickel plates?
With big slugs that can't be traced and why y'all look so corny?
Tryin' to imitate these real niggas that'll punch you in your face?
I saw niggas get smacked and have the street thinkin' they real
Saw niggas wives and knew 'em as the cum drinkin' girls
Hosaditty, she act like she innocent
She act like her pussy is place that no nigga been
Why she act like she never met me? She can't forget me
Thugs respect me, jealous niggas say F me
'Cause my cruise shots like Lefty and Sunny Black
Your hoes wanna lick honey out my crack
I'll fart in your bitch mouth, she call me psychic
'Cause I knew she would like it
Push fleet wood Caddy's feelin' righteous, I eat good
No red meat, I like fish, Y'all never in your life seen money
I live like a gangster from the Nineteen Twenties
Smuggle bootleg liquor, I shoot 'till you dead nigga
I'm about bread, these rhymes is off the head nigga
Wear Esco leathers and Esco fleece
I could flow over techno beats and rep the streets
You a one verse assasin, I'm a multiple LP long lastin'
Peekin' again, grimy nigga with different color ink in my skin
Former low life, now I'm the bling bling king, respect it
See me with the shit I say on record, not like these fake thugs
Please, wake up if I die, I'ma rise from the grave with two four fives
And maggots in my eyes to make niggas pay
A straight born killa, it's QB Borough nigga, untamed gorillas
Niggas that put holes in squealers, dope dealers
I see police flashin' through my rear view mirror
Put the brick in my waist, tighten my belt
Safety off the nine, they gotta kill me for mine
I'm flaotin', left lane open where I could get through
The cop blazed the pistol, busted out my back window
I skidded out, now I'm outta control
Slammed on the break and shot out the rear do'
I'm hearin' ambulance sirens, I kept firin'
It's gotta be them 'cause I ain't dyin'
I'm bonin' out, bit the top off a Guinness stout
Pour some out, Bravehearts no doubt
I glove niggas, uppercut thug niggas
Look at my mug, you can tell that I'm bugged niggas?
Why it feel good to be real and reveal who's fake?
Why y'all niggas got the girly mouth? Why we feel great?
Why y'all look mad with a frowned face?
Why the hoes love the Gods, Bbravehearts, Nas and Nash?
Why them Bravehearts roll hard with nickel plates?
With big slugs that can't be traced and why y'all look so corny?
Tryin' to imitate these real niggas that'll punch you in your face?
I saw niggas get smacked and have the street thinkin' they real
Saw niggas wives and knew 'em as the cum drinkin' girls
Hosaditty, she act like she innocent
She act like her pussy is place that no nigga been
Why she act like she never met me? She can't forget me
Thugs respect me, jealous niggas say F me
'Cause my cruise shots like Lefty and Sunny Black
Your hoes wanna lick honey out my crack
I'll fart in your bitch mouth, she call me psychic
'Cause I knew she would like it
Push fleet wood Caddy's feelin' righteous, I eat good
No red meat, I like fish, Y'all never in your life seen money
I live like a gangster from the Nineteen Twenties
Smuggle bootleg liquor, I shoot 'till you dead nigga
I'm about bread, these rhymes is off the head nigga
Wear Esco leathers and Esco fleece
I could flow over techno beats and rep the streets
You a one verse assasin, I'm a multiple LP long lastin'
Peekin' again, grimy nigga with different color ink in my skin
Former low life, now I'm the bling bling king, respect it
See me with the shit I say on record, not like these fake thugs
Please, wake up if I die, I'ma rise from the grave with two four fives
And maggots in my eyes to make niggas pay
Credits
Writer(s): Nasir Jones, Raymond Grant, Richard Grant, Kurtis Mantronik, Toure Embden
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
© 2024 All rights reserved. Rockol.com S.r.l. Website image policy
Rockol
- Rockol only uses images and photos made available for promotional purposes (“for press use”) by record companies, artist managements and p.r. agencies.
- Said images are used to exert a right to report and a finality of the criticism, in a degraded mode compliant to copyright laws, and exclusively inclosed in our own informative content.
- Only non-exclusive images addressed to newspaper use and, in general, copyright-free are accepted.
- Live photos are published when licensed by photographers whose copyright is quoted.
- Rockol is available to pay the right holder a fair fee should a published image’s author be unknown at the time of publishing.
Feedback
Please immediately report the presence of images possibly not compliant with the above cases so as to quickly verify an improper use: where confirmed, we would immediately proceed to their removal.