Freestyle

[Freestyle – 0:00–2:30] (Grrah, boom, boom, boom) Fuck all my opps, I want blood on my hands, Catch me an opp, he get dropped where he stand. Walk up on him close, put the heat to his face, No need for a mask, bitch, I’m leavin’ no trace. We don’t do peace, we don’t talk, we don’t bargain, Switch on the Glock, turn his chest into organs. Brains on the pavement, his momma keep mournin’, Piss on his grave while the reaper keep callin’. Bitch, I’m too reckless, I slide with a vengeance, Shoot ’til it lock, then I swap the extension. Opps say they ridin’, but none of ’em spinnin’, Whole clique of clowns, we turn opps into mentions. I’m on they block with a chop and a 30, Shooters beside me, they ridin’ off percies. Bullets gon’ sing like a choir, it’s churchy, Left him in blood, now his white tee is burgundy. Talkin’ that tough shit, you soft and you fakin’, Claim you a demon, get cooked like some bacon. Run up and stretch him, no chance he awaken, We smokin’ his soul, that’s a pack we inhalin’. Fuck all that talk, we gon’ slide in the daylight, Broad day murders, I don’t wait for the late night. Hit him in traffic, that boy won’t escape right, Brain on the dash, left his soul at the brake light. His homie got hit, now they cryin’ together, We spin through they block, makin’ storms out the weather. Bodies keep droppin’, it’s only gettin’ better, I’m heartless as fuck, I’ma kill with no effort. Bitch, I’m too cold, I put death in they lungs, Opps in the blunt, got me high as the sun. Fuck your dead mans, he ain’t slid, he ain’t done, We roll up the ashes and smoke every one. I don’t give a fuck, let it bang on the pigs, Twelve get behind me, I dash, do it big. Catch me a case? I won’t talk, I won’t snitch, Rather die in the field than be labeled a bitch.