Bragging Writes

[T-ribe]

I walk elevated streets, in my KangaROOS
Packin a 20 sack, dime bags in each shoe
Zipper on the side, you know how I ride
If I don't pack the erb, than its jimmy's for the late night

[MathMatician]

it wouldnt matta ur swagger staggers
punctured arterties with forced daggers
i clap ya after that, i smack ya
rhythm and blunts confiscated i still stunt
ingrates quit ya grunts
im poppin the trunk
who would of thunk that
my road to riches engraved with platnium plaques
a semi automatic with precise aim would bring me stacks
a flatlined mind could get a pulse from spittin tracks
a gold diggin nigga with shaky fingers
sensitive triggers
down south way too many wiggers
i figure pricey dinners with deadly sinners could make me a winner
hollow tips will make a slimmer
ya nights grimmer
call my lil' ox my trimmer

[MathMatician]

my mind coincides with a deadly apparatus
every piece and part of me of is highly potent status
semis sandwiched in the mattress
lit matches, nicorette patches

[Da Dishonourable Don]

fuck a nicorette patch, I smoke bogies 'til my lungs give/
blunts big enough to kill the cells in your son's wig/
my gun's big, but never had a reason to pack it/
'til I was 12, now I'm infatuated with squeezin' the matic

[Definitive X]

Even without a "Job", Defcee speaks prophecy
Last member of the Doors, many emcees wanna be knockin' me
Muhammad Ali, verbal assault, I box and weave
These cats treat rap like communal toilets, they drop and leave
Float like boats, there still ain't no dockin' D
Couldn't find sicker cats in leprosy colonies with STDs