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ready to(2) fight - hell rell, j.r. writer lyrics

(pre*intro)
yeah man, shout out to all my n*ggas who locked up. na mean?
my n*gga white cam, freeky zeeky, cash, young black
on his way home, doe(?)stacks just went in, it’s nothin
ziggy(?) be home real real real real soon, soon as he touch down
he jump in the sun ahead of his time, na how we do, dipset, man
clothes(ho’s) in the streets wanna know, catch me
on h*ll’s kitchen, man. that n*gga’s gon’ see what i’m cookin’ up
blat

(intro)
(ay, ay, ay,)
uh, ch*yeah, dipset. dip*dip*dipset. uh*huh, come on
give em’ h*ll(our?) records, man
(chyeah, yeah) h*ll rell. streets is mine, man. (f*ck with me)
f*ck with us. jr writer. come on. (can do that sh*t all day)
(chorus)
now i’ve been drinking dat sizzurp
and i’m drunk as f*ck.. and i’m ready to fiight!
n*ggas lookin at me like; i don’t get it poppin?
imma k!ll somebody toniiiight… (uh*huh)

and i don’t ever, ever get in a beef without
squeezing off my niiine (les’ go)
and all ma n*ggas and ma b*tches; (what’d you say?)
if you f*ck wit*da*dips get ready to riiide

now, all ma g’s in n.y. carry big .45s, (uh huh, let’s go, yeah)
chicago, l.a.; prefer dem aks
and all philly n*ggas: is mac milly n*ggas
every thug in st. louie bought a uzi!

(verse)
come on now, when rell says dump (dump)
you get up and dump! let off da pump
and let them lil pellets eat a full lunch (sh*pow!)
i got everybody watchin me: i’m fillin’ the studio(?) (look out!)
and imma ’bout to show these n*ggas why
k!lla recruited me!

i’m young, i’m hungry i’m fresh outta clink(clinton?)
and got b*tches bringin’ me money, yes; i’m still pimpin
from dat last lil’ shootout: you still limpin’
imma finish you off tonight! hustle get off da white!
it won’t stop till da hands on da rolly spin
and my mink is made outta coyote skin!
the way i’m stuntin’ so hard: should be a holy sin!
and every time a n*gga cop 5 coppi throw me a 10(?)

my little n*ggas would k!ll you just to floss…
look at these diamonds: they real blue in the cross
what’s poppin’ in tha hood? wheel thru in da porsche
n*gga, you’s a worker. i’m real cool with cha boss

i’ll get you fired, re*hired for a lesser salary
i’m on tha move these cops they forever after me. (uh*huh)
you’ve never taste bomb reefer, look at ya boy!
i’m in the james bond beamer with a st. tom’s diva(?)

(chorus 2)
now i’ve been drinking dat sizzurp
and i’m drunk as f*ck.. and i’m ready to fiight!
n*ggas lookin at me like; i don’t get it poppin?
imma k!ll somebody toniiiight… (uh*huh)

and i don’t ever, ever get in a beef without
squeezing off my niiine (les’ go)
and all ma n*ggas and ma b*tches; (what’d you say?)
if you f*ck wit*da*dips get ready to riiide
(verse 2)

ok, get ready! (it’s da invasion!)
i’ve been a sin: ben is sick.(?)

movin’ like emmit smith
and ma fifth and da b*tch, that’ll be the end of it
ends i get: enderless. 10 is kips(?), plenty chips
uzi keep movin’, that’s what i call extended clips

(chorus 3)
now i’ve been drinking dat sizzurp
and i’m drunk as f*ck.. and i’m ready to fiight!
n*ggas lookin at me like; i don’t get it poppin?
imma k!ll somebody toniiiight… (uh*huh)

and i don’t ever, ever get in a beef without
squeezing off my niiine (les’ go)
and all ma n*ggas and ma b*tches; (what’d you say?)
if you f*ck wit*da*dips get ready to riiide

- hell rell j r writer lyrics

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