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fred the godson freestyles on flex | freestyle #072 - fred the godson lyrics

[verse 1]
we still strive for perfection
shout out to new york, i like the direction
on the phone with my brother he in correction
my bars up, we’ll always have a connection
glock for protection act big get ya coogi clapped
red dot him from the phone like it’s google maps
you can rap but i’m harder why?
i run up on ya range turn into lil’ wayne and give ya car the 5
pardon my different delivery
that crack house in the bronx this what it did to me
now we let the base cook
and show the white girl
so she’ll network like twitter and facebook
it’s my word we had seven to scale
used to work with a bird like kevin mchale
now you got these danny’s, percs and oxicotins
youngin’ told me fred it works the block is rockin’
who am i to tell em different
these rappers far from nice who am i to tell the distance
hearing what you write i know why you’re so persistent
send me half your budget i may could be of -ssistance
past bars i’m in
they call your girl kim
’cause every time the car dash, she in
word clips well
two guns name kelly and b so it won’t be a missed sh-ll
y’all can’t be talking to me
after my show i have to be 4th in the v
king of new york christopher walken in me
biggie and pun both christophers walking in me
new body tahoe the blocks swerving
since march 9th never did like them box suburbans
now you got something bright with high beams
or get a clear drop and call it the visine
what y’all looking for?
can’t fred the god spit bars anymore?
let my flow sag down to the floor
have y’all thinkin’ bout every metaphor
nah flex, they don’t wanna hear it
they can’t get near it, so they fear it
so i’m ridin’ on n-ggas who interfering
won’t stop till you p-ssies bleed, period
hustlin’…i can’t stop it
like chris paul i might clip it or rock it
loyal pay day
battery radio raheem and da’ asians
i do the right thang when i write thangs
tryin to stay true that’s the right thang
watching cnn that’s my wife thang
i’m nore i’m bumping cnn while baggin’ up the white thang
product of the ghetto though
the d’s on our heels and we still let those go
heels…notice i said stiletto
steel, long nose, gepetto
pedal to the metal you in a race with the devil
get you erased in that louis, you in lv i’m the rebel
armed yes, arm rest in the buick
might be the best that ever do it
raps chosen…
i go on rap tours ’til you find a garage to put the rolls in
tell your entourage i goes in
shooters outside your aunts garage you owe him
what you expect?
every shot’ll be silent…you in debt
in debt the b is silent
and in the bx we known for being violent
clap that heat everybody they gone squeeze
like cheap -ss seats, every he knows (nose) bleeds
we gone see…
new york city i’m what ya’ flow needs
and no one in the streets f-ck with you
and i never sold my soul i can sleep comfortable
give your parents credit that blow they keep comin’ through
we’re paid til’ your mother is clear (claire)…denise huxtable
god go writin’ again
why i wasn’t on the cypher again
i don’t know i just know not many rappers is nicer than him
i bring that metaphor life to the pen
i’m tryin’ to win like hurricane matthew doin’
pill slow, i hurry caine what math you doin’
if it’s by the dollar you can hit me new fill
in my pocket monica lewinski, blue bill

[chorus]
tell me what the l!ck read
i’m ridin’ in the six speed
before we get reported and trump get us deported
papi, another brick please
another brick please…
another brick please…
another brick please…
a thousand grams!!!

[verse 2]
early morning stove like six somethin’
break it down to o’s cause the strip bubblin’
it’s fresh out the brick oven
i can put you on your feet or put you under six of em’
regardless i’m the hardest, artist ever as far as bars is
cartridges hit your cartilage, this infrared light’ll turn a dark skin n-gga to the debarges
who want it wit me
my shooters carry two 45’s like a quarter to three
can’t tell what i might spit
like pippen in salt lake city i carry the mic (mike) sick

[verse 3]
with six rings i’m jordan number 1,2,3,4,5 got 6 rings
he wore 23 45 i spit king, flow lazy eye say it ain’t a big (biggie) thang
it’s just the way i deliver the…lyrics to a song
maybe i’m trying to flow like christopher wallace is going on
y’all whole list is flow in’ wrong
i ran to my grammar no man is seeing me
i’m from a land where we plan to blam em’ in secrecy
cause i can manage to damage a amateur so easily
now watch your mouth like jerome spoke
still move that dove like it’s my own soap
still talkin’ that base around grown folk
like i’m at the table with barry white and tone loc
i get the pan on it
like i’m in martin apartment i spray some pam on it
put the grams on it
i rarely eat pork, i don’t even like money with abraham on it

- fred the godson lyrics

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