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big 3 freestyle - kirk jr lyrics

(like that)
if you facin’ me then bet
any mistake will leave you dead
gettin’ cash money young
since i was a little drake and weezy stan
(cash/young money)
& you n*ggas like megan with the hatin’
but ion play, my “pranks” will leave you dead
b*tch i ain’t joshin’, i will pull out the drac’
like “take it easy man” (drake & josh)
no snitch on my “watch”
cause like time, they will tell
you’ll find when the fleece in sync (in sink)
we get grimey as h*ll
n*gga try, you will fail
ya potnas gon find you in h*ll
ain’t tryna hear no h*i, get lit like a j
i ain’t tryin to spell
but thosе that come after k get “smokеd”
as well, that’s why you an l
so if your art come up, it’ll come apart
sh*t beyond subpar
we the team, we lifting up the bar;
it’s above the stars
sent it up to god
even when he get to pennin’ up a storm
sh*t ain’t up to to par
give it up, you are
frauds at it
whole squads average
and i’m more savage than 21 samads
and it’s quite like that
diamonds white/black
see them sh*ts dancin’
my ice kinda like mike jack
you gon hear a fkn “night*night” before you guys die
because the .9 snipe where ya nightlight’s at
time for me to swipe the limelight back
hoe you dead
cold sh*t go over heads like ice packs
you think you doper than that
what kinda hoe sh*t is that
actin’ like you don’t know for a fact
when we both on the track
you just the opening act
you the goat? that’s a joke, didn’t laugh
don’t give a sh*t that you broke
gon be more broken than that
you gettin’ cut off, like tryna say
“im broke, can i have*“
‘fore you get broken in half
(7 minute drill)
lemme switch up the beat
you puttin’ up fists but i got arms, b*tch
you ain’t special to me
that’s why i call em arms
‘cause that’s the length i keep each weapon in reach
i’m like the titan submersible
he better re*think ‘fore he
steppin’ to (step into) me
he gonna need like 7 mds
like the beat name abbreviated
emcees deviated
leave an emcee inebriated
the aleve he ate ain’t alleviate it
at being last; you lead in that
need me to spaz, no need to ask
like you cheat in class, you’ll easily pass
yeah the beat is ass, but i beat its ass

that sh*t was really lit, did you pen it tho
like you men are cloaked
in some revealing clothes in a centerfold
you been exposed
silly hoes suggestin’ i’m ever lyrical miracle?
well, when you fold, i’m bettin’
your every lyric’ll mirror cole
you feelin’ bold?
well let’s rap, that’s an option
oh he ain’t want the scr*p ?
that’s when gats get to poppin’
& me not poppin back?
that do not happen often
but n*ggas talkin smack?
we just smack cats for talkin’
(push ups)
i ain’t apologizing for sh*t
i’m needin all the smoke and i ain’t cole, am i?
so don’t trip
you started sh*t and saw the demise of all them guys that you with
it got you sick, how when ya bros die
they hoes ride in the whip, n*gga
hoe don’t cry
should’a kept a closer eye on ya b*tch
the fleece’s fort is fortified
with this .45 in my grip
i hold cl!ck, dump the whole clip
on any mole that spy on the clique
then hoes split cuz the pole’ll rise
i’m polarizing as sh*t
only language is victory
enemies speak with defeat
we pull up to ya door masked up
no trick or treat, cause ain’t sh*t is sweet
if he dishin’ beef with the fleece well we
leavin’ chickens seasoned in a fricassee
proceed to beat em til we see em bleed
i bet he gon plead for an emt*

(taylor made freestyle)
*but he gon need more than that
for a chance at beatin’ me that easily
perhaps a “masterclass of rapping” cd
a kotd or smack battle rap dvd
or a chat with a rap deity via chat gpt
you b*st*rds rats tryna eat for free
you gon starve
we gon pull yo “card”
you get “stamped” when i “snap”; ebt
pretend but don’t give a d*mn for the blacks; bet
you gon get cte when we stamp on ya caps;
tde
(euphoria)
found where ya money at, but it’s locked
finna just “spring on the clown”
then i’m jackin’ the box
i attract any opps?
they gettin’ scr*pped up and sn*tched
other words; jacked and then boxed
dracula’s jaws got less of a grasp
wanna have it back?
my bag of gags and props
finna have you in shock
i’ll wind up the toy
tho it ain’t a jack in the box
you’ll be taken aback when it pops
so you frauds ain’t seein’ me
unlike ya broads when you act up
so n*gga back up
money stacked up
like your odds of beating me
a l’il wobbly
you was armed to the t**th
til we caught you flossin’
then you lost em, easily
y’all ain’t strong or tough
ya arms ain’t even long enough to box it up with a cosmic deity in true glory ya
gonna hear the euphoria track
‘fore he attacks hoes
and this axe im holding put holes in acts
who be actin’ holy
hammer on me, case i need to whack a mole
he think he gon hold me back
i’d just tag my homie
like when jayv and me gettin it in with some freaks
we get twins in the suite;
ain’t no zack and cody
i swear this should put me in the mvp
cuz me and the beat, we be like shaq and kobe
and rappers know we

(616ila)
slid when they women home
and spread em like misinfo
and n*ggas be switchin’ hoes
how drizzy be switching codes
and this ain’t dissin’ cole
but if n*ggas show me it’s ‘like that’
with a poke, and a diss unfold?
i won’t diss and fold
im squeezin necks
what he even expect
competin’ for best
just forget receiving respect
i bet even if you was dope, and you leave ‘em impressed
you nothin either me or the culture would even accept and yet

(family matters)
they get bold when goin’ to speak
then fold like cole in his speech
so n*ggas chill cuz this the real 7 minute drill, but i wrote it in 3
hold the police up
by holdin’ the piece up
that’s upholding the peace
you couldn’t get colder than me
if you were in zero degrees
6 feet low and deceased
both arms showing, no tank top
don’t like the melodies my drac’ got?
well, i’m who the best is period, it’s k(.)
they not k. dot or drake, stop
not a little biggie and they ain’t pac
nas, jig? please, and you not me
got victories, n*gga cop pleas

f*ck a big 3; i’m a top 3
dead or alive, so immortalized
p*ssies wanna go to war til i
unveil this sword of mine
and they get horrified
personalities sound bored of lyin’
like this sorta disorder i have
(borderline personality disorder)
hoe made me lowkey bored (keyboard)
and i already know ya ‘type’
i ignore replies
you n*ggas ‘plottin’, but the storyline
really finna end in this next chapter
cuz in my ‘book’ you a f*ckin ‘mark’
so im guaranteeing you’ll be red (read) after
glaring beam, infrared at ya
let it ring when i air ‘em at tricks
not wild as me in y’all wildest dreams
pop while you sleepin’ like a air mattress
pull it on em as a scare tactic
in ya neck that’s where i bury hatchets
cut the head off that d*mn b*st*rd;
send it there wrapped up in a care package
he goin’ to h*ll up in a handbasket
while his b*tch blowin’ like a
head gasket in traffic
shootin’ thru a n*gga lead casket
like wet plastic

you been trash and deserve your spot at “worst” whenever it comes to words
i push the pen, some encourage and
some deter the work
it’s undeserved, but doesn’t hurt
cuz i know they would never conjure a verse
must’ve heard that they
mustn’t come f*ck with kirk
ask em what’d you learn
right after punks get murked for nothin
just like how justin did what’s the dirt
i know they know that they racks ain’t high
ain’t no way you surpassin
i’m spazzing
i’ll gather my down n*ggas that’d be glad to die
and i’m starting to think
you n*ggas camera shy, facts
and my mac is practically a pacifier
for when weak b*st*rds see flash and cry

(meet the grahams)
my appetite is unruly
i’m due to pop open skulls
suck medullas out thru a straw
you not using your noodle, it’s foolish
ya brain is stupid
i’m consumin’ it thru the rot
if you choosing “nah”
then he chews and gnaws
when he eat at your mind
that’s food for thought
you not eatin’, it’s mine but you could starve
cause to let n*ggas benefit never been a fit
never handed me sh*t
they want smoke?
i’m not very convinced ‘cause every bar be cute until they get cooked out like a family event
we spray if we can’t believe what ya say
then leave ya beret a raspberry*ish tint
if you try to end or dent my cred with evidence
i’ll sever heads of any ebony prince

(not like us)
wait there go the opps
got a whole squad tryna roll on us
they thought they cold k!llers
but they not & im exposin’ em’
you frauds wrongfully thought we ain’t got that .44 on us to pop ‘em
sometimes you gotta pop out and show n*ggas
pull up on fairies who ain’t prepared for the cappin’ and fed a stare to the sheriff who ain’t aware of what happened and to the cemetery i’m headed there and i’m tappin’ on graves like i’m fred astaire and be dancing there til the track ends

(hp6)
and this what happens
when ya cruel intentions don’t prove effective
and fools with less than half my sk!ll debate who the best is
you straight folded like cole did
any booth i step in
i’m shootin’ the messenger as soon as he shoot the message
if your life a movie
here’s the final act crucial lesson
get k!lled fr while we still film
the studio session
brutal beheading to a looney tunes
music segment
then send it to my dude to edit
for hue correction
zoom ya head in, iris out shot
then queue the credits
shows over
hoes know i’ll get you to steppin
uzis, tecs or i’ll use this wesson
use discretion
you can step in with h*lla troops and most
ruthless veterans
compared to my group a f*ckin nuke is a useless weapon
all you can do is spew a subdued concession
and fool it’s the hou im reppin
houston texan
achoo, i’m sick like a huge infection
get you infected

- kirk jr lyrics

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