Crack In The Nineties (feat. Jae Skeese & 7xvethegenius)

Brr

Break the brick up in little pieces, all my guns is Middle Eastern
I'ma continue feastin', I ain't finished eatin' (facts)
Lemon squeeze'll have you sent to Jesus
With a pen I been elite
Will send my delinquents to run up in the precinct (uh-huh)
Been on the street shit since the prices was on some 18 a ki' shit
You don't want smoke, you wanna tweet shit (hahahaha), look
Push the Cullinan through the ghetto on some Meek shit

With a R&B chick that I'm 'bout to go sink my teeth in (ha)
New chrome MAC, I hit him, heard a few bones crack
That killer shit, my whole crew on that
Niggas throwin' rocks at my throne, I just shoot chrome back
Trust me, my gun go off, that's a true known fact
(Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)
Brought my hood bitch to Cali and she flew home packed (ha)

You could be eatin' too, my nigga, but you don't stack (you eatin' too)
Two-tone 'Bach, not a rental, I do own that (cap)
In the booth, I'm livin' proof like I'm Group Home Dap (talk to 'em)
Gave the homie a few more stacks
He sendin' bullets through your hat (boom, boom)
He swing the stick like Pujols' bat (hahahaha)
AMG, G-Wagen, you know who drove that?

We do those matte, we shoot poles into your back (brr)
And don't you dare run, uh
We shoot pole into your back
(Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom), look
Bust down, Byzantine link, ice in the cross
Is like flawless, wire crosses (huh)
Killer hit him close range, drained his life forces

Blood on his white Forces (cap)
The smell of the corpse rottin' made him quite nauseous
Bro got bundles of white, toss it out the window
While I get the blue and whites off us, nigga (throw that shit, nigga)
A hundred thousand for a show, that's a nice offer, Machine (yo-yo, yo-yo, uh, yo-yo, check)

For the paper, I coordinate a play with no Xs and Os (uh-huh)
His profession is flows, they deadly like when weapons explode (brrah)
I know some niggas talkin' down who hit consecutive lows (uh-huh)
While gradually, my decimals rose, like fans in the stands
Section, and rows when exitin' shows (come on)
Stare me down and you get picked off
Like corners when expectin' the throws (hahahaha)

Carnivorous when spittin' it, I split the flesh from the bones (uh-huh)
They gas him like indigestion when ingestin' his poems (talk that talk)
That's food for thought, non-genetically modified
My headspace is classified, not heavily occupied (yeah, grrah)
The shit I'm draftin', not even Mel Kiper could make a mock of mines (never)
It's hard to get clear, like Concord 11 soles that's oxidized (ha)
I'm dope personified, see, my drive is vehicular homicide

The playin' field will never be level 'cause we are not aligned (nah)
I seen things on the east side that left me traumatized
My stories authentic, you gotta honor mine
It's slaughter time, that's word to Myers and Voorhees
I been grindin' for more things, like a Rollie and Porsche keys, look (let's get it)
Of course he's bossed and boss cross with the raw gleam
Every song that I'm on get charbroiled, the god's mean (talk that talk)

I'm young Revolver Ocelot clappin' at Solid Snake
My brain as sharp as surgical scalpels when I operate (ha)
At 17, all I prayed for was pussy and Aqua eights
Now blue faces all in my pockets, they overpopulate
I got it straight, ten K for a verse
That's a modest play, I oughta say (huh, huh)

I need 'bout eighty for a feature now (look)
Raised by a hustler, bitch, you should try and talk me down (uh)
I was in the hood beggin' for hope and they were not around (no)
Now I'm sellin' crack and servin' dope and sendin' chopper sounds (uh)
Need me like the Pope, I sell 'em soap, still they a block around (uh)
Slave like talkin' Jesus, like the boat, wait
My kitchen got a load and it reeks, right next to the grease (uh)

We fry fish a Friday a week, we told the police
If I should die from holdin' a ki', my soldiers'll keep (uh)
Swear, I ain't ever told 'em a peep, I profit in sleep
Me, you know the smell when the stove on
He positively at 'em like a proton
That's stiff with the batter like crowbar (stiff with the batter, nigga)
It's my turn, I learned to hustle, I earned it (uh)

Know the smell of coke burnin' like a unclean furnace (unclean furnace)
Told myself that I'd be different, tried ownin' a business (shit)
But, shit, I wrote my by-laws from what I learned in them trenches (damn)
I can't get a street nigga out my rich-ass interest
You won't get a brick from me, nigga
'Less your bitch-ass sniff it ('less your bitch-ass sniff it)
Ever seen a quarter in cash just sittin' in stash? (Huh)

Wrist water, make a big splash, brick takin' a bath (huh)
Don't let these niggas make you think we don't play
Get him robbed at a ménage just for thinkin' we gay (nah)
Tryna make it out the cold, hittin' roads, splittin' toes
It's understood, gotta get lows to hit goals (uh)
I come in the booth and question the truth of
Who you think the greatest? (Look)

I'm testin' the proof 'cause most of these dudes
Should've kept their latest (they should've kept that shit)
I love when a hater get a shooter (uh)
I lose a dollar, you lose your medulla (facts)
Then I go and make a play in Ashtabula (uh)
I'm shinin' like I'm Kent or Rick the Ruler (uh)
So much blow pitched on the low, it's like a tuba (hahaha)

This crack, you ain't shit but a consumer (uh)
I rap like I'm sick or got a tumor (uh)
Relapse when I hit you with this blue one (uh)
Relax when that stick goes by my shooter (wait)
This pack kept you sit up like a doula, shit fire like Azula (woo)

Lord, I mean, I'm only followin' the steps you're ordering (ordering)
Don't really think they understand what your daughter means
Way different (go), I'ma shoot shots (go), Blake Griffin (go)
I'm Medusa, my praise different
Bitch, east side, I was raised different, 7xve



Credits
Writer(s): Demond Price, Rahkeim Meyer, Felicia Perry, Roc Marciano, Jarrett Jackson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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