Chewbacca
[Verse 1: Sean Price]
Chewbacca!
Duece-duece, Papa now rocking your shoes proper
True shotta, nigga you noose [knows] nada
My three vs. your four, who crew's hotter?
Random!
Everbody on my team is winners
Everybody on your team beginners
Why you do that, rapper? Fucking new-jack rappers
Flinch when I walk by cause I do smack rappers
Sean the Barbarian
Deadly dose of the dope shit, black tar heroine
The best out, bar-for-bar, Paw
His god given talent scream "Al hum du'Allah"
You got no skills (skills) you got no talent (talent)
You're shit no frills and your bitch toss salad
Niggas rap albums sound like love letters
Pen in my hand like 'Damn, fam, I can do much better'
[Verse 2: Guilty Simpson]
I write classics, you can't hack it
You know what it is, in the room with the floor covered in plastic
Passive, never got a street-cat pay so I'm active
Stay back, I keep that blade
'Hi, hater'
I'll carve a smile right next to your frown like "Laugh Now, Cry Later"
Potato on the barrel french-fry ten guys
For major violations, call it annihilation
Your tough talk, I don't get it
You wouldn't fight a ticket, so why recite a lyric?
Especially when lyrics get a rifle at your fitted
I'm sure the buck so, tell Pac "What up though?"
My fours better be real
You wanna be tough? Alright, you'll forever be steel
Still, I get nicer yet out-ice ya'
And rhyme with the force of a Jedi cyhper
[Verse 3: Roc Marciano]
Marcberg, baby fire it off
Split your cabbage, bitch ass rappers spit garish
Live lavish, Mac-10's under big jackets
Hit me a pass, flip that mattress
Remember the patterns, the five stay dipping in traffic
Parle stiff in the cabin
With axes, dismember a faggot
Limbs is scattered and littered with maggots
Splashed with gas, we lit up matches
That's for acting real tepid and passive
Ya'll asking to give out passes
I pull up, get out Astons
But, never without ratchets
Bustas feel our wrath and
Butlers will fill our glasses
Brothers ain't up in our bracket
Slugs from the gattlin' spin out rappin'
Flip the casket, lyrics is crafted
Hit them with the plastic and then I'll pass it
Chewbacca!
Duece-duece, Papa now rocking your shoes proper
True shotta, nigga you noose [knows] nada
My three vs. your four, who crew's hotter?
Random!
Everbody on my team is winners
Everybody on your team beginners
Why you do that, rapper? Fucking new-jack rappers
Flinch when I walk by cause I do smack rappers
Sean the Barbarian
Deadly dose of the dope shit, black tar heroine
The best out, bar-for-bar, Paw
His god given talent scream "Al hum du'Allah"
You got no skills (skills) you got no talent (talent)
You're shit no frills and your bitch toss salad
Niggas rap albums sound like love letters
Pen in my hand like 'Damn, fam, I can do much better'
[Verse 2: Guilty Simpson]
I write classics, you can't hack it
You know what it is, in the room with the floor covered in plastic
Passive, never got a street-cat pay so I'm active
Stay back, I keep that blade
'Hi, hater'
I'll carve a smile right next to your frown like "Laugh Now, Cry Later"
Potato on the barrel french-fry ten guys
For major violations, call it annihilation
Your tough talk, I don't get it
You wouldn't fight a ticket, so why recite a lyric?
Especially when lyrics get a rifle at your fitted
I'm sure the buck so, tell Pac "What up though?"
My fours better be real
You wanna be tough? Alright, you'll forever be steel
Still, I get nicer yet out-ice ya'
And rhyme with the force of a Jedi cyhper
[Verse 3: Roc Marciano]
Marcberg, baby fire it off
Split your cabbage, bitch ass rappers spit garish
Live lavish, Mac-10's under big jackets
Hit me a pass, flip that mattress
Remember the patterns, the five stay dipping in traffic
Parle stiff in the cabin
With axes, dismember a faggot
Limbs is scattered and littered with maggots
Splashed with gas, we lit up matches
That's for acting real tepid and passive
Ya'll asking to give out passes
I pull up, get out Astons
But, never without ratchets
Bustas feel our wrath and
Butlers will fill our glasses
Brothers ain't up in our bracket
Slugs from the gattlin' spin out rappin'
Flip the casket, lyrics is crafted
Hit them with the plastic and then I'll pass it
Credits
Writer(s): Curtis Cross, Sean Price, Byron Simpson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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