O.Z the HitMaker - 7.62 Challenge

I just listened to 16 challenges
All y'all talking is murder right

Screaming you gang
Ready for slaughter

Leaving em’ wet like a water slide

If you talk to somebody
That caught a body

They would tell you they horrified

Cause he Killa that make him a real nigga and that what you glorify

I got some shit to say
I'm on a mission wait
I gotta kill this beat up in a different way
My words hit your heart and then they penatrate
But let me demonstrate
While I ventilate

I see a kid
Thinking bout crime
He only 9
And he loading a nine
His momma keep crying
They falling behind
And they could get put out the house anytime

What does he do
He listens to rhymes
And really believes in
Every single
Line
Banging that YMW MELLY
And he got murder on his mind

That’s what, he needs to do

We making it cool to squeeze and shoot

Loading up them 7.62s
And he gone squeez at me and you you

But He just hungry for the knowledge
We never serve the jewels
An appetite for distribution
Malnourished
Learning is the food
Gotta swallow our pride
And speak the truth

Or forever be caught up in the loop

We really we eating off the violence
That what we choose to feed the youth

Nigga We lost Pac to that shit
We lost Big to that shit
We lost X to that
We lost NIP to that shit
Just lost Pop smoke to that shit

Getting haunted by ghost in this bitch

Ain't no more hope to in this shit

I don't wanna have to go through
That shit

We don't need gangstas
We don't need prisions
We don't need more people caught
In the system

We don't need shooters
We don't need hittaz
We don't need innocent people as victims


We need more malcoms
We need more Luthers
We need more leaders
We need recruiters

We need more doctors
We news more lawyers
We need more bosses
We need employers

I got a different way to flow
How you sleep but say you woke
Trying to through dirt on my name
But when you speak my name just
Say the goat

Y’all making music to stay a float
I’m making music to give em’ hope
I’m making music to make em grow
They ain’t gone play this in the radio

They put this dope in the hood
So you got to break laws
You in the trap whipping a pack
Till you get locked in they claws

Who put these guns in the hood gave us these glots to rage wage war

Y'all niggas sound stupid
Keep shooting
Killing over these blocks that ain't your

While they watch and make s’mores
I got a lot to say lord
Can we stop and pray for
The ones putting rocks in they poors

I speak life to the people
Don't let death Knock on they door

I wrote this rap to save lives click that share and save more

Gone.

Written by:

Publisher:
Lyrics © TUNECORE INC, TuneCore Inc.

Lyrics powered by Lyric Find