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crossfaded/shit i hate - prod.guardian lyrics

[verse 1: nos]
[?]

[verse 2: guardian]
crossfaded as a b*tch if you got some beef
then come on take ya f*ckin’ hit
i’m blazin up, don’t give no f*cks i chop that p*ssy into bits
spin the motherf*ckin’ block and let the f*ckin choppa rip
nos is underrated, there ain’t no cap when i talk, b*tch i’ma just evade it
seen a motha f*cka on the block he got evaportae him
sayin sh*t to any cop i grab my f*ckin blade and raise it
feel like leighton johnson, ’cause im always f*ckin isolated
f*ckin’ choppa got a drum, leave him in the dirt
i spit that sh*t just like some gum, b*tch i’m always f*ckin’ p*ssed
no i’m not havin’ any fun, try to f*ckin’ play me
b*tches really think i’m f*ckin’ dumb
i ain’t done yet, he feel the f*ckin’ pain from rise until the sunsеt
do the f*ckin most, he still thinkin he a d*mn thrеat
p*ssy talkin’ he gon’ have to pay up like a d*mn debt
hit him in the mouth n now his t**th are f*ckin offset
gun fight, i got the better aim, motherf*cker better pray that
he ain’t up n my f*cking way, mustard and some f*ckin ketchup
way i catch a f*ckin stain, open up his f*ckin skull and i’ma beat his f*ckin’ brains

[verse 3: nos]
man i love music i could make this sh*t go everyday
but i’m getting sick i’m getting sick of making sh*t i hate
f*ck the scream rap scene i’ve been back 2 weeks and i wanna leave it’s okay
to be edgy but it don’t mean edgys everything
sick of hearing ak*47s in the whip that spray
rap about the sh*t you love i’m rapping ’bout the sh*t i hate
have fun with your lyrics don’t be serious y’all act way too fake
i rapped about a lot of sh*t i made up just to entertain
sick of all the clout chasing
open up your mouth cuz the corpo d*ck your suckin on
need some way to get out making money of a song
ain’t wrong it’s chasing it around that makes
you wasted f*ckin clowns just want the money
then you’re out made a thousand songs before i made a f*ckin’ penny
not for profit is a deal i honoured that or paid em plenty
if you stealing beats i hope it gets deleted then you pay ’em twenty
if you try to scam my f*ckin brothers then i hope they leave you empty
[verse 4: guardian]
pattern recognition, you b*tches better pay attention
if you walking in my path, then i suggest you use discretion
i ain’t walking out my house, unless i got a smith and wesson
commie tommy on me as a crutch unless im smoking resin
i’ma smoke a zig zag and i pop tic tac
while i hold a big gat, so come and get yo sh*t back
i just sold a laced blunt so now im gonna sit back
and count my f*ckin’ money got so much i need a zip bag
i’m the f*ckin’ unifier at your house to start a fire
ima round the block, i’m in the night
i’m burning f*ckin tire, i’ma bite his f*cking head off 87′ markiplier
don’t you step too close, you’ll end up inside of the muck and mire

- prod guardian lyrics

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