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fuck 12 freestyle (scooby doo shit pt. 3) - christ dillinger lyrics

f*ck 12 freestyle (scooby doo sh*t pt. 3) lyrics
[intro: christ dillinger]
yeah, and f*ck all you rappers
listen up, ay, ay, d*mn

[verse 1: christ dillinger]
hop on the beat like a pogo
and read out my logo
my b*tch is official
yo b*tch quasimodo
i keep a phone [?]
but n*ggas talk down and they make me go local
me and my n*ggas pull up in a photo
it’s just me and darkie the rest are [?]
suck and they suck and they want me take photos
i’m all for the sub but a fake is a no no
get back in the trap [?]
for all of my n*ggas, trap all of my n*ggas that scam [?]
cash out, titty banks, city bank with the place
real n*ggas don’t give a d*mn
i’m motivated the british command [?]
spitting the strongest, but n*gga i’m faded
i’m f*cking your b*tch like her p*ssy the greatest
[?]
n*ggas fame famous, the coppers so heinous
i riding around with a strap like it’s lethal
[?]
n*ggas saying that they are rapping but they are just talking
he say he got b*tches but he just be stalking
the game was evolving but i’m richard dawkins
[?]
[?] many blisters, you’d think he was talking
[?] just watch him [?] drop him
i think i had an epiphany
you is not sick of me
and i got rights [?]
heard that this n*gga was adding me
[?]
n*gga just speak the audacity
as soon as you think about passing
[?]
n*gga that sh*t ain’t you
n*gga just fake love it just real hate
and i’m too real so i can’t relate
where i just stay away from the f*cking fakes
say i’m christ dillinger, hey f*ck the jakes
[?]
[verse 2: lil darkie]
f*ck 12 like a dozen groupies
saying [?] that’s a [?]
most n*ggas just care about who you truly bigger
cut up a show like a f*cking movie, n*gga
imma sh*t on you f*ggots, i got diarrhea
f*cking your b*tch on my bed from ikea
you speaking on darkie? r*t*rded idea
don’t ask me for nothing, i’m deaf i can’t hear ya
shut up, you yapping a lot you get f*cked up
[?] talking sh*t but you didn’t go [?]
bite down, right now i could really give a f*ck like walk round
talk down, p*ssy i don’t wanna bark around
if you pulling me, i’ll hit you from the top down
you ain’t fooling me i’ll get you in the hop down
[?]
hop out n*gga look at my stick, yuh
hop up n*gga look at my stick
stick in the mud, stick in that blood, yuh
[?], yuh
[?]
she don’t wanna tickle my d*ck, yuh
she don’t wanna wiggle my member
i don’t remember
[?] no embers
[?] they healing
i’m into december, yuh
pulling that glock like raider
reason imma flight, i’ll fade her
rinse that sh*t
[?] wanna bite like [?]
[?] tyler, the creator
she said [?] folk
you can get stuffed like coke, coke, coke
she can get rough like broke, broke, broke
i don’t f*ck with the new folk, yuh
i don’t f*ck with the new folk, folk, folk
smoking a blunt of that dope, dope, dope
b*tch [?]
[?]
b*tch, b*tch, b*tch ask me when i woke, woke, woke
you can get sh*t at you spoke, spoke, spoke
first rapper on paper, doin that to all my haters
later!

- christ dillinger lyrics

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