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breakin' the rules (freestyle) - d-block lyrics

[intro – sheek louch]
d-mn! saga continues, let’s go!
sheek louch, styles p (ghost, what up?), j-hood
lox, are you ready?

[verse 1 – sheek louch]
i make niggas hang up and i ain’t talking the phone
watch niggas get sprayed, i ain’t talking cologne
i done fed the dogs food, i ain’t talking the bone
when the hammer’s out, duck behind cars
hawks too, y’all don’t really want those facial scars
motherfuckers get the nine to the head, left dead
vultures all around like i fed them bread
if the hammer don’t work, yeah, there’s a shotti
nigga i go fishing with the worms that come out your body
look at my face, you see? i don’t care about dying
and i only laugh to stop from crying
walk with me, d-block, 3-5-4
only rappers that’s ready for war
keep some shit in the drawer
other guns i gotta put on the floor
they’re too big
start a hair salon with what i could do to the wig
i’m about done, hood p-ss me my gun
y’all niggas is straight corny
plus pussy and i’m starting to feel horny
wha, ayo hood p-ss the motherfucking bottle to me, son

[verse 2 – j-hood]
yo, when you’re talking about the best, you’d better mention my name
it’s j-hood, d-block, we’re taking over the game
we got stripes in the streets, y’all b-tch niggas is new to this
the winchester will turn your bladders in tuna fish
my niggas done touched more cracks than the sidewalk
taling you the [?] left on the sidewalk
i’m trying to be a don
so i can cop all of my niggas chains and two hundred [?]
i’m spitting for all them juvies locked up in the [?]
we’re aiming for the top, y’all at the bottom of the list
front if you want and get hit with the bottom of the clip
i ain’t gotta floss and sag my pants to be real
i do it cause they be fallin cause i be toting that steel
i’ll open your grill, fiends get chills from the krills
i’m trying to stack some [?], stash some mills
my niggas will k!ll, won’t give a fuck who cry
i do a driveby, won’t give a fuck who die
nigga it’s hood, stash c-ke under the hood
pop you in your head and leave your -ss under your hood
motherfucker, d-block!

[interlude – styles p]
*door slams*
hold the fuck up, it’s d-block, nigga what up?
y’all f-ggots want to mention my name?
i’m in your -ss!
i ain’t with this pussy shit
running back and forth, gun, all that
you wanna see me, see me on the streets!
once you mention your boy – i’m in your -ss, nigga!
i’ma shit on you one time!
other than that you can call me up or meet me up, whatever dog
what up?

[verse 3 – styles p]
holiday’s getting on it
fuck beanie sigel, nigga you can suck my d-ck with the shit on it
mack put the lead on it
fuck with me i k!ll you whole fucking family, you can put your kid on it
free, you’re a b-tch too
wanna rhyme with your men? talk greasy nigga, you’re getting hit too
we can make the bullshit stop
fuck a song, meet in the streets, we can let the full clip pop
tell your band to ride with you
it’s holiday styles, you know how i do, your men can die with you
make new york jumping like [?] get off
how the fuck y’all the roc when your leader is soft?
how the fuck you ‘the truth’?
d-ckhead, when it’s me you wanna be like when you get in the booth
i don’t fell ya’ll niggas
hit me on the cell phone, meet me in the streets and i k!ll y’all niggas
y’all can’t be serious, you just rappin’ it
i lay niggas down point blank period
holiday’s calling you b-tch
y’all gon’ make me catch my 4th case hoping that none of you snitch
to me all of y’all trash and all y’all -ssed
must be [?] that got all y’all g-ssed
don’t you ever talk of k!lling me, word to allah
i squeeze the burner in your face, ’til it turn into tar, what!

[outro – styles p]
you b-tch nigga. the fuck’s up, nigga?
(excuse me y’all, had something on my chest that had to get off)
i pray too nigga
you better pray more than me though motherfucker if you fuck with me
i try to keep the peace and love but y’all niggas is getting out of character
it must be the fucking drugs – smoke weed nigga (what’s going on?)
drink… liquor nigga. (you go to war?)
that shit you’re doing is out of character for you, dog
you’re fucking with the wrong man
i’ll look you in your eye, daddy
i’ll stab you in your fucking heart, d-ck
matter of fact i ain’t with this shit dog, see me personally
then we handle it, me and you
face to face, daddy, no teams, nobody there, no police, no witnesses, no cases, none of that
you’re strong man, and all that, let’s do it personally, mano-a-mano
d-ckhead, never speak my name f-ggot, none of my men’s, none of that
come on, player, live this shit
d-block!
ayo liveson, turn that shit off!

- d block lyrics

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