RapFix 2013 Year-End Cypher Feat Lantana, Oun-P & Ransom lyrics

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VADO lyrics : "RapFix 2013 Year-End Cypher Feat Lantana, Oun-P & Ransom"

[Vere 1: Vado]
Motherf'ers can't rhyme no more 'bout slime no more
That five white pure cause I'm so raw
Drip rocks till I couldn't climb no more
Became a hot boy like the 504
Master of the p and the pies go forth
Damn near free, I need a least five, four more
What you see you can't tell me
Walked in like the first scene in Belly
Like let 'em in though, black Timbs, leather trench coat
Mac 10, let the clip go, half [?] where I send those
What happened? Niggas been broke
[?] send you a napkin with your kids toked
Bluh, bluh, blood everywhere
They jumped this caddy, came back with bloods everywhere
Trunk of the Crown Vic, kept drugs heavy there
You thought it was '96, Jesus head heavy here
Now I'm rich like ''look, boy I'm over them''
Trying to play fantasy football with Hov and them
Pick another check, shit, I took more than both of 'em
School my little bro, I look forward to growthing 'em
Yeah, now I just copped another watch
I just drove up the lot pushing another drop
My first stop 95th then hit the butterspot
The feds got me on shit that could get my mother hot

[Verse 2: Lantana]
Military matter, on a mission, baby, listen
I put myself in position, man, it's a family tradition
My pops blood in every vein I got
So two things I can never do is change and stop
They don't understand the pain or the brain I got
They weren't there when them people came and changed them locks ever
That's why [?] don't kill more
[?] and these stupid niggas still slow
You still slow for real though, what you hear for?
Ain't trying to hear nothing till a bullet hit his earlobe
Can you hear me now, we rising
I got game and I should've wore an [?]
Live for my people and I'mma die for my people
I'd go to jail for my people, hope I get mail from my people
I'd raise hell for my people, shoot it out with the devil
Then head back to Cincinnati, told 'em I'm about whatever
This for my people, how soon
Who don't want easy, that autotune
Listen, I got you, I'mma keep it ratchet
Ratchet on me, ain't got no homies, just my people, people
People, people, my life the Corleone
Wow, probably let off the 40
Ride that while I'm with people
They gon have to see you, it's evil

[Verse 3: Oun P]
Money is the motive, got my mind on it
Come with triggers, see that floor, I put your mind on it
See this block here, I grind on it
99% of niggas waste lines, over here got nines on it
I switch grinds, I'm trying to get it every way
Til I'm eating like it's Thanksgiving every day
Stay with a serious face cause I don't ever play
Bad karma back in the days cause I ain't ever pray
I ain't with the trickery, don't t be trying to get at us
Beat you til my hands turn roast and grabbing a cactus
No lights in the crib, red light on the ratchet
Eight balls on the block, but the 40's was only jackets
Before there was 3 of us on the same mattress
Now there's 3 of us fucking the same actress
Dogging everything, I'm fucking the game backwards
Put more green leaf in the air than St.Patrick's
I'm still rapping, first of all
I'm doing this so my moms ain't gotta work no more
Music take away the pain, it don't hurt no more
Was looking for wealth, but I ain't gotta search no more
The loyalty, where the fuck is that these days?
Best friends is getting each other clapped these days
These young niggas really don't know how to act these days
It was better when I was younger in my athlete days
Go outside, hoop a little, you know, flirt with the shorties
Go outside now I see somebody squirting the 40
Pen and a pad, I'm interpreting the story
All you see is what a lot of niggas ain't showing
So when the tour started a lot of niggas ain't going
Now I don't listen to rap, a lot of niggas ain't flowing
Been doing it for a while, now it's time to bring dough in
Humble, I don't brag or boast in these streets
But these white phones be looking like coke on my feet
I ain't get it from distributing that coke on the streets
Got mine from putting cooked coke on the beat

[Verse 4: Ransom]
Niggas know I don't show gratitude
Look at this rapper shoes, you can tell [?]
Street prophecies told by the resurrection of Socrates
Every sentence I'm blessing properly, manifesting philosophy
Ghetto monopoly, how .. Oddisee on that property
Deep as them fossils be under the Earth geography
Got a lot to kin, no stopping me, whoever is on top of me
Getting popped with three bullets, it's hollow, G
I'm a novelty to the rap minority, perfect harmony
Paper like a lobotomy, the devil lurking aside of me
The ghetto probably doing robberies cause of [?]
[?] part of me like the major arteries starving me
Till this day wonder where my father be
Pardon me, this is hard to me, life is a lottery
Played it to [?] like pornography
It ain't hard to see like photography
Lyrical sodomy, [?]
Got a license to kill like Sean Connery
Street corner pharmacy harming these fake thugs wearing army fatigue

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Thanks to maria.01215