Check the Stats
Check the stats on the board,
Bitch we been having
This nigga still trying to cop a plea
This nigga been lacking, Can make that turbo switch this bitch bend faster,
Turn this bitch
Into fifth gear they feeling sick after, I'm in my City all the time, I ain't hiding
I ain't Bin Laden, The opps mad cause they down bad and we still laughing, Bitch wasn't
Even that bad gang still tagged her, come put
It on a nigga I might trick after, Button
on that stick it make it click it make it shoot faster, Glitch on this bitch and make
em twitch with the switch after, Rapping bout that shit to make you think I'm a sick bastard
Need a pair of wings or robin jeans I'm a drip Master, Seling all these verses making
Music I'm a gift wrapper, can sell a million verses make you think I'm a sick rapper, but
I don't give a but I don't give a shit what you think, this my own chapter, me vs me in
the booth, I'm the track thrasher, you a backstabber, petty ass cheese on the floor, you a cap rapper
lying on that tape to get you on, you a straight Actor, lose my mind in the booth, I need some
Meds and a straight jacket, Check the stats on The board bitch we been having, This nigga
Still trying to cop a plea, this nigga been Lacking, Can make that turbo switch this bitch
Bend faster turn this bitch into fifth gear, They Feeling sick after, I'm in my city all The time I Aint hiding, I ain't Bin Laden, the opps mad Cause they down bad and we still laughing
Bitch we been having
This nigga still trying to cop a plea
This nigga been lacking, Can make that turbo switch this bitch bend faster,
Turn this bitch
Into fifth gear they feeling sick after, I'm in my City all the time, I ain't hiding
I ain't Bin Laden, The opps mad cause they down bad and we still laughing, Bitch wasn't
Even that bad gang still tagged her, come put
It on a nigga I might trick after, Button
on that stick it make it click it make it shoot faster, Glitch on this bitch and make
em twitch with the switch after, Rapping bout that shit to make you think I'm a sick bastard
Need a pair of wings or robin jeans I'm a drip Master, Seling all these verses making
Music I'm a gift wrapper, can sell a million verses make you think I'm a sick rapper, but
I don't give a but I don't give a shit what you think, this my own chapter, me vs me in
the booth, I'm the track thrasher, you a backstabber, petty ass cheese on the floor, you a cap rapper
lying on that tape to get you on, you a straight Actor, lose my mind in the booth, I need some
Meds and a straight jacket, Check the stats on The board bitch we been having, This nigga
Still trying to cop a plea, this nigga been Lacking, Can make that turbo switch this bitch
Bend faster turn this bitch into fifth gear, They Feeling sick after, I'm in my city all The time I Aint hiding, I ain't Bin Laden, the opps mad Cause they down bad and we still laughing
Credits
Writer(s): Cold Marino
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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