O.M.M.I.O. Freestyle
Fuck is y'all sayin'? I've been heard them lies
Lookin' for the truth, you can look me in my eyes
See I'm hunnit proof
I watch you marks make a livin' off my lifestyle
It's quite foul how you ain't real as what you write down
I'm right now, 50 Cal and some white owls
Ain't nothin' like sendin' birds in PJs without a night gown
I'm Flock daddy, I shot Kenny and popped at him
Don't trust that bitch, yuck and she got the block
Packed the cig like a chainsmoker
Send 'em shots back to back, make you hang over
I'm out the villas, my killers'll call it Angola
One of the realest, a guerrilla, we done made it off that front line
Didn't have no cable nor a landline
But my stove had them tan lines
Robbin' stores, rap on standby
I'm from where you get shot for who you stand by
So watch who you're close to
Keep it strictly business, gotta notice who all knows you
Since '02 I had a gold tool
Your life all Pro Tools, I'm workin' my stripes just like I'm 'posed to
Swear to God, it ain't nothin' like some new shit
But it's like I'm who dreamin' for these blue chips
O.M.M.I.O. the movement, powder in my coolant
Everybody got their opinion but mines do shit
I couldn't buy a piece of mind with your two cent
So if you ain't conducive you a nuisance
Lookin' for the truth, you can look me in my eyes
See I'm hunnit proof
I watch you marks make a livin' off my lifestyle
It's quite foul how you ain't real as what you write down
I'm right now, 50 Cal and some white owls
Ain't nothin' like sendin' birds in PJs without a night gown
I'm Flock daddy, I shot Kenny and popped at him
Don't trust that bitch, yuck and she got the block
Packed the cig like a chainsmoker
Send 'em shots back to back, make you hang over
I'm out the villas, my killers'll call it Angola
One of the realest, a guerrilla, we done made it off that front line
Didn't have no cable nor a landline
But my stove had them tan lines
Robbin' stores, rap on standby
I'm from where you get shot for who you stand by
So watch who you're close to
Keep it strictly business, gotta notice who all knows you
Since '02 I had a gold tool
Your life all Pro Tools, I'm workin' my stripes just like I'm 'posed to
Swear to God, it ain't nothin' like some new shit
But it's like I'm who dreamin' for these blue chips
O.M.M.I.O. the movement, powder in my coolant
Everybody got their opinion but mines do shit
I couldn't buy a piece of mind with your two cent
So if you ain't conducive you a nuisance
Credits
Writer(s): Rodney Brown Jr.
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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