tied spitting - mir blackwell lyrics
[verse 1: mir blackwell]
uh, i got n*ggas with toolies, shooting whoever that’s moving
you got n*ggas that move the toolie, but never go shoot it
round after round like i’m hula hooping the game’s been concluded
pass ’em the rock, i say shoot it, stupid, you n*ggas is clueless
if he try to step to me, he’ll lose his life, there ain’t no lost and found
my n*ggas got it from the muscle, never lost a pound
the money that i make is not for now, i’mma toss it down
n*ggas in the streets talking ’bout beef, but we off it now
talk me down, soul up in the auction, he a coffin now
that boy got a visit from the reaper, he ain’t talking now
tryna be a hеro, he just talking, we gon’ hawk ’em down
supеr saiyan wrist keep shining when it’s dark around
throw ’em to the wolves, if he biting keep my dawgs around
all black fit, every pic like an ultrasound
that’s why i fit the description when i walk around
body count, tally going up when i chalk ’em down
[verse 2: yayu]
catch him swinging off the web like peter parker, we sparking ’em like morales, he acting callous, who harder now
peeling off and we watch him stick to the solid ground, never fly again, get wings clipped when i’m hawking rounds
used to be the passerby, i got ’em gawking now, bragging ’bout my polish get dirty talking and wash ’em out
world is getting darker, we navigate through the art of sound, way it’s going ain’t honorary to don the crown
vices, he’s drowning in them, ices, they breaking off the surface, issa crisis
precise with my pen when i put meaning in these writings
i’m sick of people asking ’bout my prices
when everything i spit is f*cking priceless
nice with it, my whole gang might bring in the pipes, singing
type: different, feel like a psychic for where my sights sitting
catch ’em out in traffic, we intersect, i don’t fight with him
p*ssy acting green, had to turn him red like the light switching
[verse 3: mir blackwell]
see, i get it, n*ggas is mad at the way that i’m living
but i’ve seen your boy turn slave just for some nice whipping
with my rhythms this sh*t’s a rap, tied ribbons
i be with my dawgs like ty spitting, no tied spitting
this high hitting, see how my eyes redden like sharingan
sasuke, how i carry on, too young for the fire i’m spitting
never see me crying, but these n*ggas be dying, b*tching
real sh*t when i rhyme, but these n*ggas just kinda live it
[verse 4: yayu]
push a zip like the five digits
i’m just tryna be my best self, that ain’t a crime, is it?
i ain’t do this sh*t alone, i got my guys in it
if i hit the charts, catch me pie splitting
uh, b*tch, your timing isn’t good, you so inconvenient
i got visions of a heathen with the lit sativas
precision needed, we got him stuck like it’s intravenous
spring up heated, he falling cold like we switching seasons
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