Freestyle lyrics

Send Shots At Ya

Original and similar lyrics
yo im gon send shots through ya body like dat bitch irv gotti yeh ill send rounds through ya cheast put ya ghetto ass i cardiac arrest bitch you no im best den da rest yeh u no u cant mess wit my crew ill cut yall prankstas up n' make yall in ta beef stew yall no my wallet stay fat u think u somethin ill make you eat my gat yeh i be givin my girlz diamonds n' gold yeh u no its from dat rock i sold now what yall gunna do when i got u in check bitch like i said im gon send shots through ya neck

Mad Crew

KRS-ONE "Return Of The Boom Bap"
Intro: So in the clubs I get (mad) On the mic I get (mad) On the beats I get (mad) Yo, Chorus: I got the (Mad, mad crew up in the house) I'm wit the I be chillin' wit the I'm rollin' wit the Verse One: See, this is what I'm sayin' and I know you don't see this Wack, underpriveledged MCs think they can see Kris They watchin' too much television and they rocka This ain't the TV show Taxi, and I ain't Lotka I break an MC off proper, yo don't check me Ask your Moms and Pops, yo they respect me But here you stand, tryin' to get yours, but gettin' NOTHIN' You probably can't spell Boogie Down or Productions I play for jeeps, I play for keeps, I play for streets, believe me Put down the microphone and consider a squeegie You're rated PG Again I win when I begin I'm slammin' again, no win, try to comprehend I don't bend I ravage and damage I'm wild like a savage, kickin' asses Hot flashes, your style's with trash's Stay out of my classes, PUNK Stay out of my classes - yo Chorus: Verse Two: Twinkle, twinkle to the little rap star I got all type of MC tongue in a pickle jar So here's a quick freestyle to my target: My core audience, *fuck* the rest of the market! 'Cause I spark it, styles I loanshark it Then break your legs if you try to chart it I got heart, it Doesn't take a lot to rock a record, get wit it Some MCs can't rock for five minutes Sorry, that's not the way to approach me Use caution I rip up lyrical crews and MCs often You probably don't know this: I give birth to MCs And I also give abortions I'll do a number to your body structure You look like supper And I'm that _hungry_ motherfucker! You don't wanna be on the menu! I'll end you, twist you up and bend you Like Gestapo Pick up the microphone and crush up MC like a taco No, we're never sad because we nah deal with sorrow That's why dem challenge me, jah man you know dem challenge trouble Me are number one of me there is no double! And you don't want no trouble 'Cause Blastmaster KRS is flashin' lyrics on the double Chorus Verse Three: Check Me comin' on quick, me cominadance, now me a sing KRS-One in a party, man me do me own ting Nuff MC test, but you don't hear vowel one All you hear is when the BDP crew slap them up We have the champion belt and lyrical cup Any DJ they want my title filled, no way now man step up But when you lose, now understand you get fucked up This ain't no game upon the mic Me bring the noise to you like Chuck Chorus: Kid Capri got the Gang Starr got the Ill Will got the Flavor Unit got the

Let Me Know

AZ "Decade 1994-2004"
Its international players shit you know what I mean Its big boys shit, y'all little boys get the fuck outta here, ya heard Floss with me and stash holds more than 50 Snatchin the baddest bitch no luggage, we off to Sicily First class flights, see me shine matchin in white Gatored up with the faded cut flashin the ice Fuck that, niggaz know me, keep low key Sneezers nosy, live niggaz creep OT From all the hustle on the streets daily numbin the brain From drainin out of his game but we runnin the same Loving the pain, thug niggaz thuggin in the rain Broke niggaz stay broke stingy huggin they chain Church niggaz just chill stay connect and thoughts While the vest they lost warrants catch them in courts Catchin the source, the students that lessons is taught I been near through my younger years perfecting the sport All praises do for all those facing the zoo, this is the crew Soon we'll be blazin that chew [Chorus] If you want it (if you want it) Just let me know (let me know) If you want it (if you want it) Just let me know (let me know) If you want it (if you want it) Just let me know (let me know) Let me know (let me know) I do this for y'all, I ball for y'all Hit the streets strap up go to war for y'all Its all for y'all, Champagne across the ball Late night hit the strip see me floss the car Hit for now, all smiles no tears for now Quiet money know the styles see all years from now Anti, still camerin shots when remise with eyes And hands through the wise Strong ties dance with the live Act hold up, my whole team actin all up Brooklyn! hear to speak niggaz packin all up Poet at heart, dart making throwin at them charge Hit or miss still a way splitter blow them a part Flow with the sharks, real killers coat with the dark Is these playin in the streets they awoke to the art AZ on your project walls act to the halls Respect all the laws, its locked now check all the doors [Chorus] What y'all niggaz want, y'all know who y'all fuckin wit What up From all the new, solar now roll with the crew Young in, now a nigga just know what to do Trustin a few, feds had me flushin pervu You fuckin with who? Slippin I'll be bustin at you Money to get, y'all niggaz that run your shit Dum on your bitch, butt fuck her cum on her tits I'm young and convinced, captive trainin for T's You ain't in my league just chill and keep blowin your weed Quiet as kept, cash flow relyin on my rep Sizing the threat, down for like knives in the vest Sure shots for the war blocks caught in the box Call for you ox, crab niggaz call for the cops [Chorus]

Double Up

CAM'RON "S.D.E. (Sports Drugs and Entertainment)"
(feat. Un) [Verse 1:] Yo yall niggaz wit the muscle yall get clapped in the tussle I'mma hustler, not a rapper bitch, rap is my hustle Show a nigga know yo, we the 1st teen millionaires in Harlem since rich and poor, you don't know, get to know Ain't takin shit to left, Jimmy Jones rock and jock Right back to the block and cock, it ain't hop and scotch It's pop and scotch, in a bar they go shot for shot, Matter of fact, outside the bar they go shot for shot Me and my codie on a O-Z, we go rock for rock, Me and my codie on a role we go rock for rock, You souped up, think I'm easy to touch, Then you been watchin' a little bit of TV, too much, Lots of rhymes, so you see my ass lots of times On the corner still, like I ain't got a dime Autographs not the kind to be signin' the crap, Here's a CD, slash here's a dime of that crack [Chorus:] Nigga double up, keep all guns double clutch, Shoot at yo feet, make you jump like double dutch, New York baby, for you matchbox nigga'z Take away the french fry, snack box niggaz [Verse 2:] I know lookin at my jewerly is scarrin yo brain Not to mention Jada Pinkett over parkin' the range (Yo that's Will Smith girl) naw she's part of my chain Pardon my game, car gettin washed in the rain Runnin yo trap, that'll get you one in yo back The hood that I had, had to take the good with the bad Like Joe on the run, put his fuckin P O it's done Low on his funds, had to get the coke or the guns Word to the wise, killa Cam, I heard of them guys Diplomat, crisp black, yo convertible fives Rims on the wheel, to drive down shows in the South Rap ain't that great neither, I got coke to give out Stroke to give out, motherfuckin smoke to give out hoes to give out, naw we ain't over this route Back on the street, Jimmy get the crack on the street Tour over motherfucka let's get back on our feet [Chorus 2x] [Verse 3: Un (whispering)] Ay yo it's un bitch shhhhh it's un bitch CEO joint bitches, punk bitches I'mma let you know so you get it right I don't rap nigga but I'mma spit it right Make a nigga, go to church and pray Nigga'z first day, and his first deal leased his first beamer now yall tussle 2 against 4, now on yall youngsta'z gone respond, walk out the rusty car, what y'all stand on, fuck the tabloids Y'all little men, I be Un man Charli Baltimore and Lil' Kim And yall can't see these flows, If you wanna be stars see the CEO [chorus]

Always Know Where You Are

BBMAK
KILLA IN ME It's big Killa B cumin up on tha track Just chillin wit tha G's lightin up a sac of that NorCal Gernery sumthing for tha scenery But i'm here cuz i'm fellin G Me and my mutha fuckin boyz are relieved U got funk then u'll be like my meet in ur beef Straight from tha street and handle this Here take a seat from my head to my feet I'm a lyrical trickster take a scrilla i'm tha killa named B And u'll see nobody's illa than me Now bitch get down on your knees bitches Know that u lovin my shit cuz that shit take a hit And u lick just a bit there's a hop in tha ride Always by my side u can bump or get high Fo u shouldn't just try to just step Cuz now u and check and now u best hit tha deck And fo take a neck and my bitch that's fo break Tha lyrics u hear from my mouth to ur ear Make u tear or for fear make u want no where near Brain capacity everyone be askin me can i be just like B Lights, camera, action u just a fraction of killa possessed Corporal with vests on their chests Now u want to c tha best from tha west No way ur a pest and a bitch like tha rest

Professional Style

AZ "L.O.D.B: Last Of A Dying Breed"
[Intro: AZ] Y'all know what it is... Brooklyn's finest! Wild money zone! AZ... Alchemist! Doin' what I do best... what y'all can't do! I'm 'bout to hop on the biggest muhfuckin' boat ever! The Queen Mary... 'Bout to cross the muhfuckin' Mediterranean. Y'all motherfuckers at war! [AZ:] Cruise ships sail out, - inmates bail out! D's flipped my day one, dog; we finally fell out! Identifyin' bodies at morgues, I need rest! I pro'ly with the faces enforced with weed breath. Patron out my pores keep you feelin' the vibe, I'm 'noyed! No hog! I'm concealin' my cries, avoid. Manic-depress' shit, - Hannibal Lect-ic; Let off a few shots dip, - ran through the exit! [Breathing hard] I'm too old for this! All these diamonds in these wrists-es and my necklaces-es Supposed to be 9 digits up, - effortless; But it's like I been posessed by "The Exorcist". Forgive me! - No Emmy's or roleplay here, Just a Bentley 2-door with the cold-faced stare; So, YEAH! (YEAH!) - Cool, whatever. Blunts, bottles or broads nigga do whatever! Blood, bullets or war'll be the move forever, Single solo or crew send them dudes to dead ya! Yes, sir! Haha! - Professional style, Truly, I ain't apply my pressure game in a while. Ruly I'm really moody; - aggress only foul, Disconnected now, so press redial! - I'm gone! [Outro: AZ] Alc'! It's all good... straight from the heart! I speak it, I live it, I love it! New album comin' soon! AZ... Alchemist... "Chemistry Files"! Add it up, dunn! [beat stops]

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