friendly fire - no more ls lyrics
[intro: brogodzilla]
culture vulture and a lot of mid
n*ggas writing their raps with thesauruses
sixty*four bars, where the f*ckin’ choruses?
i know the last thing you wanted was some more of this
bryce, ya b*tch left you cause you had a four inch d*ck
in the kitchen tryna..
[intro 2: bryce mills]
distract you from trying to gather with knives
turns out you a brutus, detract with a clever disguise
guess all them followers got you acting all veteran like
so i can do without you having the cheddar, that’s right
you a bad apple, but ain’t spoiling the bunch
because i’m taking out the trash with the coil in disgust
muhf*cka’
[interim]
if something isn’t likely to happen
you might say it’ll happen, whеn pigs fly
if something is as likely as happening as pigs flying
thеn it’s not very likely to happen
[verse 1: bryce mills]
f*ck all of that friendly fire
that sh*t is for petty rhymers
we gotta aim our semi’s higher at deadly vipers
as frenzied writers with plenty ire we’re steady snipers
tearing through the fleshy fiber with heavy iron
beheading misers until we’re empty fighters, getting tired
leave em’ leaking like yandhi as a fresh reminder
our flow is a threatening tide that’s, breaking the levies right up
crimson flood like the shining from us shedding biters
5.7 ruger that i named assata shakur
i’ll flee to cuba when i lay a cop in the dirt
i won’t be institutionalized, pray to god that it works
at least i’ll shoot ‘fore i die, spraying shots at the germs
i’m glad you back brogod, we cleaning out the pigsty
slapping bacon on the grill and bleeding cows that d*ck ride
pitchfork and a torch screaming down a dim drive
crashing the boujie banquet to feast on scoured insides
[verse 2: brogodzilla]
uh, f*ck all of that friendly fire
dont want them to identify us with weakness
aim to form an alliance
bro is cold as ice and me yo my souls on fire
whether you want mumble or hardcore rhymers
surprise, we corner the market
bout to be the sole suppliers
and we ain’t tired
got the year ready for you, we ain’t even inspired
off road, no threaded tires
take him, feed him to tigers
crips and bloods love the vibes
america’s fighters
.227 bullets making bacon bits out of a boar
you shoulda thought about that sh*t before you called me boy
i really couldn’t believe my eyes the way these coppers work
burn the institution down
george floyd on my shirt
that’s how you back yo squad
we cleaning out the crib
whole precinct smelling like ribs
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