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dope
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Collab verse de'd up and technique
IP:
Technique
ayo im kicking it wid De'ds up so throw them hands
We're ripping this shit for dudes that are our fans we are going out are way we've got this locked down I'm sound as a pound Crusifieing emcees to the ground We both make u look like clowns you ain't gonna be popping ur mouth Cuz I'm a made emcee and there isn't anything stopping me now Theres 2 many people on this site who recken there the shit I'll wash up your spits cuz they don't seem 2 be working one bit just think of me as ur worst nightmare I'm born to stir keep obserd wid my words and kill u when they occur And if you wanna battle me get the top of ur brain rattled You best run away bitch b4 I shatter u up n leave u dismantled I'm just ill in the mind with lines that can stop time Everytime I rhyme my lyrics stay true and devine I'm the wrong guy to mess wid so you best keep clear cuz my souls filled with hate about 2 reck everyone here my lyrics are racing I can't stop my self from pacing never scared about any opponant that im'a be facing rip there face up till you gave up I'm the lyrical master I probably fucked all ur girlfriends so you best ask her I throw up fingers to this world Everyones going to die So why's life that important when we know we won't survive thank god im still alive cuz I don't really wanna die yet but I deff thought about it and I probably will do it i bet while im still alive ur life is mine and im'a make ur's worse So you best pray for god if you don't want ur life 2 be cursed I'll stabb u till ur appendix bursts and sticker daggers in you I just wanna make sure that your lifes sad n watch u stagger through cuz u don't realize the damage u do I wanna get my own back you'll get ur neck bent back and get a swing of my foot in ur nut sack De'd up Ayo this D'ed Up on the collab that will buss eardrums/ About to do this with Technique son, here shit come/ Alota bitches talkin shit but they just fake ass chumps/ We talking business, getting serious, so run bitch run/ But looky here u fakes ass here’s a story/ It aint bout crime/ It about rhyme/ U no dam super thug that’s N.O.R.E/ Keep ya ears to the street we bout to speak the Truth/ The Truth’s Paul Pierce, we just reality from the booth/ And when you step in the booth remember it soundproof/ Its not gonna save ya from what u say, it aint bulletproof/ So if u start saying D you better be sayin Ben Wallace/ So watch what u say, cuz u cannot avoid us/ I put more beats on ya then Pharell from the Neptunes/ And if you say my name wrong, u be sein my guns soon/ Cuz people brag bout fist game then hide behind gun game/ Cant hide from my gun game, just watch how my gun spray/ Ima put you behind desee bars you’ll think your in jail/ Then hit me with 30 more when you think u made bail/ So cats pay your dues, cuz this is lyrical royalty,/ And speak on the low, or I’ll abuse my authority/ And by the way here is my opinion on underaged crime/ If he old enough to act like a thug he old nuff to die/ For some thing he said or possibly something he did/ Brook cats will probly pop him, don’t care if he a kid/ So fuck this G-Unit, ill give you the Stunt One O One/ Don’t ever go against D’eD Up Rule Number One/ People speak bout loyalty the code of streets / But when shit pop of dey run to the police/ Im on the streets from Monday to Friday/ The rest I lay rest, u can still die on a Sunday/ And even tough I don’t hit women but u kinda rude/ They say they are men, but they just transvestites misunderstood./ Last edited by Technique : 12-22-05 at 09:03 PM. |
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