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.A Revolution (Part II, Down With Bash).
IP:
(Niggas, I told you the REVOLUTION was coming… now it’s here, what ya gonna do?)
Gather ‘round my niggas, to watch this dude get got// Bash is "painting bullets", ‘cuz beating me, you already "blue (blew) ya shot"// You ain’t equipped to be rude with glocks// Leave this kid “bare”, like he was rappin’ at a "nudist spot"// I keep it gully, all my audio is on a tape recorder// You keep it bitch, Bash, like "fast food" he’s used to taking "orders"// If ya mouth keeps runnin’, i'll have you ducking clips// Stop tryin’ ta have "sex with a question mark", you just don’t know who you "fuckin’ with"// Don’t know and don’t care where this fruit is from// My spits have my name in ya mouth always, like it was "tatooed to ya tongue"// Lord E can’t be touched, I walk in the ring with stealth// You cant rap!! You "lip sink" like a bitch that "fingers her self"// All I needed was a pen in the penn, now I’m free from the state// Face it, you couldn’t "take me out" if I agreed to a "date"// But wait, just in case you say that I didn’t use that right…// Them chances are more "hopeless" then this dude Bash on our site// My flow can’t be stopped, stay hot like oven tops// I’m like a mime, I’m all action and not some bitch that talks// Ya see, my corrupted speech is tough to teach, vocabulary too long for this slut to reach// Keep these nuts in ya cheek, step, and get walked on like sand on a beach// It ain’t no thing, i'll straight put this hoe on the floor// I’m clever enough to "switch Styles" like I didn’t wanna listen to his "album no more"// Homey, i'll spit on ya coffin, i'll fuckin’ laugh if you’re dead// Only time you "poppin’ off at the mouth" is when the "bullet goes through the back of ya head"// O.k., i'll be honest, you’re forever suckin’ like ya mouth’s glued to a straw// This kid "full of himself" like dudes with "stuffed drawers"// You’re just another dead rapper, two bars and i’m over you// Wanna be a star? I'll have you "popped at" more then "models at a photo shoot"// To me the mic’s like weed, you pass it, I smoke it// Nigga, E always "cum’s tight", like my sperm is "claustraphobic"// Your talks won’t get you far, I spit ‘til ya face splits// Bash's defense is weak, punches "touch down" like spaceships// Let’s get back to the basics, m.c.’s crumble like cookies// You’re fuckin’ with the "Major Leauge", face it, they don’t make "jock straps" for "pussies"// Best pray for ya health man, ‘cuz I’m like God in a way// Kid claims he's an "axe murderer" ‘cuz he don’t like the "body spray"// Where I live they snatch ya chain and ya life, no pity in the hood// You’re a funny guy, if this was a comedy act you'd be pretty good// Look dogg, I’d try, but you’re just some practical goof// I'll have ya fucking "dome opened" like a "retractable roof"// I’m the type to get under ya skin like cuts and rabies// Get some balls man, i’ve seen bigger nuts on babies// Whack rappers and me don’t mix, I spit true success// Bash, i’ll have you hit with so many “shells”, it’s like I threw a dozen “eggs” at ya vest// You’re not the first that thought they could walk, but tripped// After this war people ask if you’ve been "workin’ out", because "YOU GOT RIPPED!"// (Ha, ha, ha, ha... Don't try an' act like I ain't rip you nigga. .LA FAMILIA.) |
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