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killkanaan/solidstatescouter - richtribe atg lyrics

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dang
young atg is still doin’ his thang
try to slime out i’m breakin’ his fangs
watch ’em get fried when i’m raising this cane
ol’ snitch ass n*gga done tsung like shang
up the heat and burn him, his b*tch screamin’
“aang!”
he leanin’ like wock when i flock him, no flame
project explizit ain’t f*cking with lames

i done saved n*ggas lives and put food in they stomach
broke off and done gave my last blue on the money
never asked for it back i was cool with the frontin’
now i’m fake and i’m p*ssy, boy ooh this sh*t funny
these rappers be scared of me, that is my thesis
most of my dogs turned to snakes, rats, and leeches
my sh*t is jumpin’ outplayin’ they weak sh*t
must be r*t*rded f*ckin’ with a g*nius

wanna outshine me, that ain’t in ya grasp
i can’t beef with a f*ggot that play in they ass
when you sending them threats better say it with class
since he think he kick door, he get left in the grass

project the reason you can’t book a show
n*gga we the reason you can’t go to the store
atg too legit to go switch for hoe
tell that boy to quit rappin’ he not gon’ blow

f*ck all that talkin’ i’ll slay me a canaanite
they woofin’ on insta but they never came to fight
beat his ass with bl!ck ‘cuz that hoe n*gga brang a knife
everyone know you weak your brother, mother, and your wife

huh

playing both sides, n*gga that gets you shot
who gon’ shoot sum we know you not
say it’s on sight and get slapped with a thuwop
chief of this sh*t all my people say “oorah”
try to rob rich, b*tch that sh*t is a no go
back out the knocka, that n*gga say “oh no!”
i don’t need to black out to paint a n*gga rojo
you say you get bread, ya moms on section ocho

that boy a b*tch he got stripped in seattle
that boy is my son he get hit with a paddle
he like to get tough when a n*gga at work
i pushed up to his job, he got punched and scidaddled

funk*town, not philly, f*ck brotherly love
next n*gga cross me headb*tting a slug
why he act like a hoe someone get him some uggs
19 in the grip b*tch i don’t gotta mug
aye, 19 in the grip b*tch i don’t gotta mug
nah, 19 in the grip b*tch i don’t gotta mug

don’t fight me b*tch i am not your addiction
i’ll beat yo drug addict ass in submission
i carried yo song so you hoping and wishin’
i’ll stop what i’m do but i keep on persistin’

don’t f*ck with folks that’ll fold or play both sides
might slap his backstabbin ass with a 4*5
say they die for me, i know that’s a bold lie
you n*ggas get lit up just like a menorah
gon’ call yo f*ggot ass friends on my property
i’ll prop my muhf*ckin pipe, then i pop at ’em
the day that you pop out, it’s gon’ be an atrocity
f*ck up the funeral, p*ss where the coffin be

he think that he tough and all he did was talk
chop line his 90 pound body with chalk
he loud as a b*tch ‘cuz he know that he soft
i don’t fight n*ggas i know i can dog

told yo dumbass i was lackin i lied
like a pirate captain got a gat by my side
the next time you get laced hope it’s crack and you die
n*gga quit all the cap you won’t actually slide

wait, y’all ain’t slidin’ on sh*t boy i know that you been a b*tch
i stay on point lookin’ sharper than scissor tips
start all that sh*t but you know you can’t finish it
cut the street act n*gga need to get rid of it

sh*t can get wild p*ssy b*tch better buckle up
posted back sippin’ tea in yo hood what the f*ck is up
practice the 2nd, they too scared to knuckle up
put a hole in ya’ sh*t since you sweet like a honey nut

f*ck a hindu i don’t need red or green dots
how you pull up with drakes and ain’t let off a slingshot
think he that guy i’ma show him that he’s not
b*tch i ain’t playin’ this sh*t not no gmod
send ’em to שאול but he not enoch
if i spot ’em i got ’em and b*tch i don’t beatbox
big iron cowboy, i kick sh*t no bebop
f*ck you and ya homies, hang ’em from a treetop

sh*t can get cold like napoleon bonaparte
if i’m out*numbered they all gettin’ blown apart
they hate on me crazy ‘cuz these n*ggas know i’m hard
they stuck at the bottom, they mad that i’m goin far

these boys 2bit, 2 faced street punks
gon’ and pillow talk how you gon’ do me sum
wish that he wood i’ll chop em like a tree trunk
lied on the tribe and that n*gga got debunked

bridges is burnt so blame n0body but yourself
cross me, you lost me, go f*ck yourself
don’t try to call me ‘cuz nah you can’t touch my wealth
n*ggas be scrawny but they mouth be tough as h*ll

aye, solid state scouter i can see these n*ggas b*tch made
scoop a f*ck n*gga eyes out with a switch blade
know that i will whoop you do ya crew like kunta kinte
fake gang bangin’ broke ass lil ingrates

- richtribe atg lyrics

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