this is the ultimatum, hatin on V? Don't get soul touched//
cobra clutch a half-ass rapper after I burn a dutch//
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this is the ultimatum, hatin on V? Don't get soul touched//
cobra clutch a half-ass rapper after I burn a dutch//
In my hood kids either on life support or life insurance/
Gov't leaders give reassureance that they'll wipe out the insurgents/
Quote:
Originally Posted by VillainousV
turn a slut to a good girl, after i fuck her cunt,too much Satan at once so she went back to, the innocent bunch.....
Wickedest bunch, hungry then we takin ya lunch, load guns ride by bust in a rush, getting by is a must, life is survival I survive with the sickest of ones
explicit the stunts wee pull off,kill all the wack fucks thats too soft for obtaining
flosss.....
tossin a line like a Kunai, slicin ya 3rd eye//
These are verbal times, guns are old skool, the weapons of the streets are these tenacious rhymes!
blatant rhymes coming outta the lines,rewindin the times that piece together the meaning of life
seeing the pipes//exploading slowing time down when i get my mode to hype//
yall just fag types blowin dicks like bag pipes my mag snipes you clean like rag swipes
get tagged wit dragged spikes lag when the poison fangs frag bites//
moonless black night blowin up spots bright as a mag-light roamin with the black knights niggas fragile like abused crack pipes
straped nike's i attack life act right befor i start a stab fight sharp hits wit ab striks split a line like i spit the nine from gag mics
let me bow down.....sike ! run ya nikes, faggit and the shure mics runnin over niggas on my dirt bike you pussies purr, bite logos branded leave you stranded like turnpikes
flams i spit burn types i ern likes that would over turn dirt bikes
emerg from the earth like surge mites with lights that merge and blure sites