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fmj #2 intro - freddie gibbs lyrics

[intro: smokey b + (freddie gibbs)]
yeah b-tch, it’s ya boy freddie gibbs
mixtape volume 2
it’s the illest n-gga in the g
this ya boy smokey b
i’m back in this b-tch
the ceo n-gga
no tamin’ entertainment
we puttin’ sh-t down on the map b-tch
go ahead spit that sh-t n-gga
tell these n-ggas you hard as h-ll freddie gibbs (yeah, ugh, ugh)

[verse 1: freddie gibbs]
yo it’s the steel city stick up kid and i’m totin’ that heavy metal
i hustle block to block and push it in every ghetto
all of my songs bang, cop a disc and play dat
i got the hood soldiers like chiefs and arabs
the game gets shook, wack rappers is terrified
k!llin’ all of my kids, this is lyrical genocide
i write a rap, spit a rap, and it ain’t no sweat
can’t quit, i’m in too deep like, omar epps
they treat me like i k!lled bishop cause i got mo’ juice
than oj in a bronco, lay it down pr-nto
i keep a bad b-tch cause my c-ck is mean
i’m about to get ya girl looser than a slot machine
cha-ching, and i ain’t even gotta trick no change
spit no game, but i kicked yo’ dame mane
my lyrics is blueprint for cash makin’
i do you greezy like fried bacon that’s why you hatin’, ugh

[interlude: smokey b]
yeah you n-ggas see freddie gibbs everyday in the streets
talkin’ ’bout how you gon’ murk that n-gga
half you n-ggas ain’t even got a m-th-f-ckin’ pistol
talkin’ ’bout you gon’ k!ll a n-gga
man i wish i would catch one of you n-ggas wit’ a pistol tryna k!ll my cousin n-gga
on m-th-f-ckin’ [?] and i will murk one of you n-ggas
i’m a m-th-f-ckin’ [?] boy
i’m back in this b-tch like mase, the ceo m-th-f-ckas
let’s go

[verse 2: freddie gibbs]
i ain’t scared of gettin’ murked
got my number you call then i’mma checkout
before it’s all over, i empty the f-ckin’ tec out
them hollow point hydro shots will blow yo’ chest out
or hit you in the throat and blow the back of yo’ neck out
when there’s beef i ain’t the one to sit in the crib
i’m outchea splittin’ them wigs, call me general gibbs
raise yo’ hand and salute fo’ i aim and shoot
knock you out yo’ timbaland boots and murda ya troops
so which one of you n-ggas really want it? let it be known
go ahead and call my name out in one of ya songs
at this point in time i ain’t on some dissin’ you back sh-t
i’m on some when i see you i’mma pull out the gat sh-t
that ridin’ through ya neighborhood squeezin’ the mac sh-t
that hit you with the k while you sit and relax sh-t
f-ck this rap sh-t, cause you n-ggas can’t compete wit’ me
hit the streets wit’ me, i bet you i got the heat wit’ me, n-gga

[outro: smokey b]
yeah, who got that heat b-tch?
smokey b got that heat too n-gga
anyone of you n-ggas run up you gon’ get done up
n-gga i put that on all n-gga
i’m the next m-th-f-cka in line
i’m ’bout to shut this sh-t down
n-gga, finger roll the coldest producer in gary, indiana b-tch
this the hottest sh-t out, i dare anyone of you n-ggas to say som’
i don’t give a f-ck who ya is n-gga
i would say some names but half of you n-ggas ain’t even worth dissin’
ya punk m-th-f-ckas, y’all ain’t sh-t
smokey b back b-tch

- freddie gibbs lyrics

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