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Machinegun Rap
BluntOne & Awon
Popularity ยท Low
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๐ฌ๐ง English ยท Original
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Lyrics
Original
Translation
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This is for the bandoleros up in the bandos
Greening shots, that golden state I'm Steph Curry with the handles
Fuck it, they gonna have to sue me for the samples
I'm Charles Barkley and M.J., the way I gamble
Every verse is a statement, I never ramble
Line up the heads of MC's on my mantle
When I'm on the mic, keep it lit like a candle
Like when I spark the lye wit' a strain you can't handle
Listenin' to oldies, I be digging for the loops
Rakes, chops, and shit BluntOne who produce
Blend it like a ninja, now her pimp got the juice
Grooves got the girlies loose, pockets fat like Bruce Bruce
Shoppin' for new coupes, panoramic new roofs
Wallies and Chartreuse sippin on a d'usse-d'usse
A butt like platinum spittin' acid over bass
The result, is eruption, this flow is outer space
This that Sun Ra n' George Clinton funk
Afro-future, machine gun rap
And for them hoes Karma Sutra
The antidote, crush yo' cantaloupe
The antithesis
When my freestyle soundin' better than yo' written shit
Flow ridiculous, rock a crown for my penmanship
Player's Club membership
Born a straight nemesis
The government's my third eye, got me on some other shit
I stay on the run, eatin' underground n' lovin' it
Who the fuck is this? Tellin' me that I ain't the shit
They maybe need a decongestant
Because my presence is the essence of everything refreshin'
Better watch who you testin' or a shot, is yo' lesson
Yo' thots, stay finessin' wit' a smile on her face
That bitch backstabbin', that's why you caught a case
It's 2000-somethin' who still smoking mace?
Why front, if you fake? Most yo' big, homies jake-
Niggas who, got weight, never talk it
Flashy cats be the target of narcotics and woos often
Keep talkin' that bullshit, and see coffins
Pine, oak and cedar, dirt naps, you can't see the
Prominence, hail to dominant
Ain't nobody fuckin' with me or my conglamerance
This is politics a chest aimed
Don't let em' get you gassed like methane
See how their tek ain'
Bringing you that med pain
That Sun Ra n' George Clinton funk
Afro-future, machine gun rap
And for them hoes Karma Sutra
The antidote, crush yo' cantaloupe
The antithesis
When my freestyle soundin' better than yo' written shit
Flow ridiculous, rock a crown for my penmanship
Player's Club membership
Born a straight nemesis
The government's my third eye, got me on some other shit
I stay on the run, eatin' underground n' lovin' it
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