The Hallowtape Intro

In the cornfield workin' up a force field
I'm the mockingbird, bitch, I was born real
West side of Detrilla in dis muhfucka
From the hood to a villa in dis muhfucka
I stay to myself 'cause I'm antisocial
Extroverted introvert wit' the rap vocal
In the midst of warfare I find inner peace
Shaq could guard the track, but I'm still the centerpiece
You could wake me up when September ends
But I'll still have the green in the palm of my hands
I'm about a dollar, I been poor befo'
I remember bike rides to the corner sto'
I just take my life in strides, chewin' on the hoe
What we do it fo'?
Tryna beat the status quo
Let me have wealth, you can have the baddest hoe
Put her on the shelf, still simpin' for the hoe
You a goofy bro

This The Hallowtape
Super Saiyan ape
Feelin' great
Smokin' grape ape
How the money smell?
Dank, Vegeta
Can't relate
Exhume hate
Get paid
This my faith
Life a lake
Camp Crystal smitten killer from the Murder Mitten
You dissin' who?
Listen, yo ass 'bout to be missin'
Who gon' find you?
X, a old man fishin'
Now you wishin'
You on ya back
Life force fadin' to black
Don't you know?
Gotta pay Majin all the stacks
For the Hallow snacks
Trick or treat
What's radder?
Greet me by my feet
Fuck up bladders
You know Vlad?
Bitch, well I'm badder
I need blood, red matter
If that costs the bodies, bitch, it don't matter
A impaler, of the blood splatter
Teeth sink in, Majin
Deep mags villain doin' the bonin', fuck Krillin
Not discreet
All my killin's done open in the street
Open market money
Lets meet
Need a hit? Well
My Syndicate gotta eat
Stocks stay on fleek
Flippin' currency

Waste no time
Man, there's too many ways to find
The chance to grind
But ain't too many replacing mine
Bet I take whatever shot I got
I'm on that Haitian time
Might not have no voice of angel
But I face divine
Every single verse that I spit hot
Man, they call me Chauncey Billups
I be takin' big shots
Drezus, I'm the last savior of hip hop
While you hatin' all on my flows, you gettin' shipped out
Bitch, you can not keep me
Come around and give her side pipe
I be playin' roles like Luigi
Competition easy
Feel like they beneath me
Flow like a river
You be movin' how a creek be
Screamin' bloody murder over fou' Halloween beats
Conscious of my wrist
But I might not get a repeat
You get one shot, and I gotta make 'em see me
Make 'em feel my words
I be spittin' in 3D
Ain't no other place like mine, cause I'm from the D
Check out my webpage
Hoodies and CDs
Countin' up that bag
Boy, they said I'm countin' cheese cheese
Now every time that I spit it's 400 degrees



Credits
Writer(s): Brian Gerald Jewell, Deandre Owens, Mark Martin
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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