EL Reon - No Competition

Shout out Fatman that's my slime
My baby momma came and got me She ain't waste no time
You know that imma savage
Imma ride I ain't gon hide
So if we catch you outside
It might be a homicide
It Might just be a murda
I'm prolly somewhere
In the kitchen
Tryna whip some water
You know that imma drug dealer Come and take yo order
You know imma thug bitch
I can't be no sucker
I ain't no goofy muhfucka
Bitch you know that we take shit
I ain't no cake bitch
Fuck a bitch and kick her out
Enjoy yo day bitch
I hate niggas imma mfn racist
Posted wit this forty
I'll give yo ass a facelift
I Took 12 on a chase
Just like Jason
I'm Starting over
Bitch I'm back to the basics
Bitch I love Ben Franklin
Green like Franklin
Big booty naked bitches shakin
Reon glo'd Up they cant take it
I need my money
Now I can't wait
Brock lesner bitch I lift weight
They was sleep on me
Now they wake
Killed the pussy
Now it need a wake
Choppin cocaine on a plate
I'll stab yo ass wit a shank
If you ever try to take my bank
Think a nigga ran outta paint
Bitch I go hard in the paint
Speedin real fast in a str8
Everyday is a fuckin payday
You can Drown
In these bullets like mayday
I'll Slide through yo hood
With a AK
These niggas ain't come to play
Nawww Shorty nemm
Gon let it spray

Walk up on a nigga
Do em dirty lord
We gon wipe em out
Thats what we bought
This thirty for
You know we move
With the piece like wegi boards
Bullets jumpin Everywhere
Like bunji cords
We a clap a nigga up
Like we at the awards
If this was midevil times
I'll have a sword
Bitch I sell dope
Cause ion wanna be poor
Ain't shit good enough
For these bitches
They always want more
Wtf she callin my phone for
She ain't spending no money
Ion wanna talk
Imma sell this work
Make it summersault
Bring the forgis out
Bitch cuz I Love to floss
Don't think bout runnin off
Bitch cuz we love to toss
You just target practice
I'll knock yo head off
These bullets make a nigga lean Like fetenol
I'm still the dope man
Tryna get these bags off
Take the rags off
So I could count my riches
I Can't forget
I came from the trenches
I'm the under dog
Just to be specific
That shit he rap bout
You know that shit fiction
He don't want no smoke
That nigga don't want no Friction
I Find his hide out
Now we get to blicken
They put in a cage
And it made me viscous
Nigga say he want smoke
Come with it

Written by:
Darion Smith

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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