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racc city (freestyle) - otm lyrics

[verse 1: duffy]
i could never understand how n*ggas still broke
rack city, this la, if you know, you know
like ’cause we trippin’ on blower in a chiefin’ coat
i’m from the stinc team, he know that’s why his b*tch chose
n*ggas talkin’ like they joints, but i can’t tell
make the baddest b*tch in town walk on egg sh*lls
f*ck 12, free riesing, n*gga, free kels
long live the cold devil, time to give ’em h*ll
mama found my whole *rs*nal of weapons
let a n*gga think i’m scary, get to shootin’, i feel threatened
every day we be outside, n*ggas know we heavy steppin’
b*tches on they best behavior any time she in my presence
if i like her, i don’t tell her, i’m an arson with this metal
n*ggas seem to know we pressure, real shooter for the record
let ’em slide, n*gga, never, see if n*ggas is athletic
i think n*ggas got the message, now here come the paramedics
ugh
stincs run la, that’s the bottom line
’bout who trippin’, what we doin’, what you got in mind?
jiggy on the dance floor, where omarion?
i’m a flu flammer, baby, i don’t got no time
too icy, n*ggas know they ain’t as fly as us
who the bustin’? who this n*gga tryna size me up?
gon’ end up a free throw, b*tch, i earn this
chopsticks, my sensei like, “where you learn this?”
[verse 2: blue pesos]
i think i see some feds around, it’s a burnt mission
she gon’ tear it off and ho for me, rack city
get it out the kitty, otk, long live ketchey
why you actin’ so hot? you movin’ real sketchy
she tryna party with the team, her man won’t let her
my swag incredible, bet you i can bleed sketchers
cold demon, stinc team construction, it was destined
he said he gon’ k!ll me, i just laughed when he said it
with this ruler, sit down and learn a lesson
left him sleepin’ with the fishes in bikini bottom
i got a fee for any n*gga with a starin’ problem
he get too rich before these stones make his bed rock
way i [?] on his block, we need more chalk
no stocks, n*ggas say it’s an issue, take a long walk
krusty the clown, think i’m jokes, he got bart choked
i don’t want this wockesha, where the morton grove?

[verse 3]
ralph lauren sweatshirt and the horse big
jordan shoebox, racks, ain’t it gorgeous?
flight club, kicks fly, please escort him
f*ck a bad b*tch, all i do is [?]
what i tossed up my pocket is a fortune
greedy n*gga, b*tch, give me double portions
big bear sh*t, all i sip is poridge
u*haul, check racks in the storage
[?] bustin’ out the [?]
bary bonds at the plate, let your boy hit

- otm lyrics

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