Shi-Lythal - Shi Shi Freestyle Over DJ Luckee Lefty Mix

Are you ready, are you ready
Shi Shi, so Lythal
I'm not the stereotype
I'm more like a boombox
Mixed with the boom bap, audio crack
No detox
Fort Knox interior with such delirium
It spills through my exterior
The phony feel inferior
True Queen, superior
To any lil box or radio
They tryna stuff me in since embryo
Always ready to flow with a estrogen overload
Stuff my similes in my metaphors
So they could say she overflow
That just means its over yo
The phat lady of rap never stopped spitting
Why you still waiting for her to start singing
Do everything different
My Louise Lane days and Superwoman nights
Is a little hard to envision
But you can peep hole the vision
If you Oovoo or Skype
You tweeting, follow me
'Cause I don't follow the hype
But I will get you hyped
During them femcee nights
Its pure rappers delight
Oh now I'm the stereo's type
Duck
My mouth is a cannon unhanding
Seas of similes and word tease
That leave Captains standing in plankton
Taking ya ranking, expanding
Been taking account of bodies
Since the First Union of banking
Me and words are like
Books to worms
And crooks to yours
And Snoop to perm
And sex to perv
And death to urn
So listen homie, fuck ya turn
I'm coming in like roots to ferns
And hooks to N.E.R.D.s
I'm grinding, innocently smiling
Eyes blinding
Like an eclipse when these lips start unwinding
Rap game mad conniving, why do we love it
Lying y'all don't spit for cream
Yet you cashing them nuggets
Lovey dovey
Music is hubby ain't parting til death
Even then, lyrics I'll send from my eternal rest
Like chicks on the hoe strip
I feel this deep in my breast
I'll spit and get you wet, tickling ya ear's g-clef
Yo I'm legendary
In a legend licking dairy
Looking at the legend on the map
Of where my treasure buried
I be moving in a hurry
Like they want something from me
All this bobbing and weaving
Gave me a flat tummy
I never been a dummy
Got my money making money
Learned this from 2 OGs
My pops and my mummy
Honeys want me to share
Betta go ask Sonny
If its paper, then I'm there
And well its a done dunny
Nothing funny 'bout my eating disorder for cake
I beast, money hungry
Lucky if you got dough I ain't take
The yeast yucky, dirty dough
But its sweet when it bake
Eat, have a feast
Wash it down with a Checkers milkshake
I walk great, that's why I always talk late
A hot mommy, just ask my boys Eli and Nate
I'm they model chick so I get paid for Heaven's sake
Fight through hell well, all day
Still look great, its infinite

Written by:
Tashi Holloman

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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