A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #

BOSS HOGG OUTLAWZ lyrics : "Freestyle (track 12)"

[talking]
Killa ^!$$%, (run it) hey


[Kyleon]
Who you know rap fresher than Killa, realer for static
Wherever we go, he know where I'm lyrically at

But it's a bunch of ^!$$%z, trying to act like they bad
They must be out of they mind, if they think that mad
They say they freestyling, knowing damn well they wrote that %#@!

I done heard it all befo', I can quote that %#@!
I don't sell drinks, Killa keep bars fully stocked
I got raps for weeks, (*##$ I keep bars fully @@#!ed

I don't mean to be arrogant, or be a bullet popper
Do you really think they can see this bullet, not
These ^!$$%z done lost they mind, confusing themselves

Cause they not amusing me, they amusing themselves
I'm the reason, a lot of rappers is losing themselves
Ask 'em who the best rapper is, they need to quit choosing themselves

I'm fin to start shooting slugs, and start using them shells
Put a pallet to that $$#, and start bruising them tails
You better go ask cats, about that proven fact

Try to contest Kyleon, you lose the match
Even when I give 'em a life, they still lose the match
Get it they lost they sparkle, they didn't use the match

I'm so far ahead of myself, I'm the dude to catch
Cause I stay consistent, what with it you dudes expect
I bet now I'm the dude, that these dudes respect

Cause they know Kyleon flow, is huge as techs
Tell me who you know, flow as huge as that
But I'ma keep that to myself, I'ma just conclude with that

Killa ^!$$%, don't make @@#! the pump and (blow it out your $$#)

[Slim Thug]

^!$$% please, the world ain't seen too many me's
I don't think the Lord created, a lot of these G's
Broke ^!$$%z say they don't like me, all I talk about is cash

Or how I ride around on glass, well (blow it out your $$#)
I'ma underground legend, the best of the best
That's why when you see Slim, he live way better than the rest

Compare your favorite independent rapper, put him to the test
You think that cat could $#&@ with me, (blow it out your $$#)
I made ^!$$%z get on they hustle, step up they game

They saw the rocks in the lock, and had to step up they change
I put the North on the map, when the South was running thangs
And y'all think y'all $#&@ing with me, (blow it out your $$#)

I showed you ^!$$%z how to ball, y'all was looking like dummies
Let y'all know what was cool, when y'all use to dress funny
Slim the reason, you ^!$$%z know undergrounds make money

And y'all try to take it away from me, (blow it out your $$#)
I speak the truth, while these other rappers tell they tales
I keep it gangsta, and don't make love songs to sell

Major labels say I'm unsignable, I'm like oh well
You wanna give me a quarter mill, (blow it out your $$#)


[PJ]
I hustle and take bread, move and shake FED's
Soon as I stack my chips, I'm flossing and turning heads

Hoes I don't trust, mind on stacking bucks
You mad I'm coming up, well (blow it out your $$#)
PJ I'm back, gripping and ripping tracks

Crucifying these haters, till and collecting stacks
Dog I'm too thoed, my mouth piece is cold
You want me to fold, well (blow it out your $$#)

Hoes they gon bop, when I pop up on dots
^!$$%z gon start hating, and haters they getting shot
Mother$#&@ the cops, I do what I feel

You talking down cause I'm real, well (blow it out your $$#)
I'm climbing up the hill, my time has come
Yo I'm never ever slipping, hoe I sleep with my gun

Wanna see you ^!$$%z face, when I pull up on glass
PJ, you don't like me (*##$ (blow it out your $$#)
I go with real spitters, like Slim and Killa

Sir Daily and Lil Mel, money hungry for scrilla
Chris Ward and Rayface, that's my team
You mad we getting green, well (blow it out your $$#)

Submit Corrections