Ra Machina - N.W.O. (feat. Chuck Frank)

Finally I've been unleashed, I've been shouting from the nose bleeds
Never will I get cold feet, say you bout it nigga show me
Let you slide that's the old me, talking' shit but don't know me
Machina Man thats for E, write it up with my woahdies
We all dying, slowly, blocking blessings, goalie
We go ham bologna, hating still, blow me
We the ones been working and working
And slaving a run till we get check
You the one been lazy and hurting
And burping and smoking them cigarettes
Once its gone can't get it back
You talking shit on the internet
Me and my niggas not into that
Even mommas not feeling that
Ole girl in my world, swim with the sharks I'm killing that
Ass fat got the panties on her like banana peels Imma peel it back
Nicotine no more I stopped cold turkey, Hell nah we ain't smoking blacks
You want the cash that's in the trap
Young nigga don't get trapped
Phone calls goin' get tapped
Bass knocking' goin' get slapped
Really think you making hits
We hear the shit don't shit slap
Step to me you get bitch slapped
I'm out the box, I don't fit that
I got plenty raps, you don't get that
That fire head make me sit back
Come to us with some silly shit, not playing that get sent back
Come to us with that loud pack, that's my nigga let me hit that
Really I'm trying to go overseas like a nigga ordered off the Wish App
Lil chick got to my spot, she wanna meat like it's PicPac
I broke her off like a KitKat
Smoked two weeds they mismatch
Everybody wanna chit, chat
Bad energy I'm not with that
Making mistakes, Do you wait
Bitches get saved by them capes
Niggas will lie to yo face
Niggas is shot by the Jakes
Jakes be defeating the case
Niggas be pleading they case
Niggas get thrown in them cells
Might as be deep as a well
I guess I will see you in hell
Robbing Peter for bail
Ordering heat in the mail
Order them beats on my cell
Order the key from the shell
What do you keep on your shelf
What are you feeding yourself

Just made her squirt
She thought she pee'd on her self
You goin compete with yourself
My cheeks don't melt, my c's on stilts
Ride with the tank on L, that shit for laughable
Prolly shouldn't even be in this traffic
The way I've been acting
The way I've been packing just like a meat packer though
Hands ain't really knocking when we at the door
Bitch I've been grabbing O's like some cabbage though
Then I just break it down into bag n go
Rapido, rapido, bitch what you slacking
Ain't going back and forth like its a lateral
I'm being literal, what are you asking for
This ain't no UFC, what are you tapping for
Swear on that box but can't take the package though
Go ahead, return shawty with all of that tracking though
She said that she an open book, left her on read
Then read an actual book instead
On how to get straight to the head yeah

Written by:
Charles Hopkins III, Rashid Hunter

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

Lyrics powered by Lyric Find