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dope boy talk - jakk frost lyrics

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[intro: jakk frost]
uh huh
yeah
jakk frost
dj premier
and dj premier

[scratches by dj premier]
“doper than anybody who tries to cope”

[jakk frost]
hip hop mixed with the dope boy talk
beardgang

[verse 1]
in the middle of winter, my guns bring may weather
raised in the mo cheeks, dr. j era
jakk frost and dj premier, they together
highly antic-p-ted like manny and mayweather
my flow way better, even rappers i’m cool with
don’t want me on their stage cause my show way better
fully loaded beretta, bloodier by the leather
guaranteed to swiss cheese your chest for that cheddar
monterey jakk, cheese has you b-tching
ac turned out trying to find your way back
he got front on a brick he couldn’t pay back
did his line like lebron, pushed his wig way back
never had a bentley, never had a maybach
but still, b-tches sit on my lap and lay back
i’m the beardgang general, it’s simple as that
the serial k!ller of instrumentals is back

[hook 2x]
this is hip-hop mixed with that dope boy jargon
thirty-six for the brick, that that dope boy bargain
this is hip-hop mixed with that dope boy talk
pistol hanging off my hip, that’s that dope boy walk

[verse 2]
the infrared won’t miss y’all
the shotgun slugs break angles like curry did chris paul
i’m old school like pacman and pitfall
atari 5200 with the white ball
fiends used to give us tv’s for 8-ball’s
now i’m moving eight bricks every eight calls
these cowards can’t stop me
the 40 leave ’em choking ’til he blue in the face like king joffrey
bad b-tches be like, “who is he?”
the dope game got me telling “gucci time” like i’m schoolly d
three sk’s will make a death scene
walk away with your dignity and give me that green
runners screaming for jesus, blasphemy
why this fat motherf-cker want to blast at me
got n-ggas at every coast that will blast for me
kick in your door and cause a catastrophe
when i’m gone, there won’t be another after me
my c0ke make the fiends say “uhh” like master p
my clip got no limits on n-ggas that’s so timid
frost is so frigid, my temperature’s low digits
n-ggas brag about their fendi belt
i put four through his waist, six in his face and ask him how the semi felt

[hook]

[outro 2x: scratches by dj premier]
“bearggang general”
“jakk frost”
“the n-ggas in philly is rowdy rowdy”
“bearggang”
“cl1ck, bang”

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