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under the influencer - esham lyrics

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[intro]
psycho, yo, yo, yo

[verse 1]
one dope rapper, tell me how do you feel?
like an old*school cadillac coupe de ville
i’m high off life, i don’t need no pill
i could never be fake ’cause i’m too d*mn real
la di da di, i blast the shotty
commit a homicide is when you k!ll somebody
don’t be another rapper popped on the mic
’cause if they let you out for snitchin’ you might die tonight
for all of y’all bustin’ rhymes in h*ll
tryin’ to sell your soul, hope your records a sell
i smoked all the evidence the cops might smell
i can’t hang with you ’cause you might tell
no friends in the game i’m in
look up in the sky, you wanna know what lane i’m in
i was swervin’ through the clouds in a plane again
i sold the meth to your man, he brought the pain again
the whole world’s on acid, i’m their number one dealer
michael jackson brought ’em back from the dead like thriller
do a spin, grab my nuts, and then d*boy pose
wack rappers on the mic, yeah, i eat those
beefy meat though, i never met a harder mama
i’m old*fashioned, i like my women born with a v*g*n*
sit back in a recliner while i’m doin’ the most
with my chest nusts roastin’ on your twitter page post
roast a piggy, still bump pac and biggie
toast to the homies that’s still rockin’ with me
east, west, south, north blow up
i say, “what up, doe,” ’cause ain’t nothin’ but dough up
[chorus]
east, west, south, north blow up
i say, “what up, doe,” ’cause ain’t nothin’ but dough up
east, west, south, north blow up
i say, “what up, doe,” ’cause ain’t nothin’ but dough up

[verse 2]
one dope rapper never stuck in a trap
that’s for rats, this cat too cool for that
it’s all about the paper and makin’ a profit
the public goin’ crazy, they want me to stop it
it’s money in my pocket, as soon as i drop it
you want a hit, give me a pen and a pad, i gotta top it
another dead rapper bringin’ the fiber optics
you so microsoft ’cause you can’t microscopic
stop it if you think you droppin’ dope rhymes, in fact
you the very definition of what we call wack
originality is what you lack
whoever put you in the front, we gon’ put you right back
snitch*ass rappers we gots to tax
chop off your head, break out the axe
we already know who set the traps
but if we them cool cats, then who’s the rats?
if you in a trap, man, watch for rat man
i’m runnin’ from these snitches like the ghosts from pac*man
i know what’s happenin’ and i’m ’bout that action
i’ll murk you ‘fore you tell on me, won’t get the satisfaction
so peep the caption, this is what these rats will do
yeah, he got caught, so he gon’ tell on you
the police had no evidence, they didn’t have a clue
until you signed them affidavits, ratted out your crew
so you swore to tell the whole truth and nothin’ but the truth
in the first forty*eight hours, everybody knew
[chorus]
east, west, south, north blow up
i say, “what up, doe,” ’cause ain’t nothin’ but dough up
east, west, south, north blow up
i say, “what up, doe,” ’cause ain’t nothin’ but dough up

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