gem drop - rome streetz & big ghost ltd lyrics
[intro]
once again
[verse]
these n*ggas wanna be scarface, then forget the endin’ (uh*huh)
chasin’ attention, you’ll be popular when your death is trendin’
couple official n*ggas is in it, the rest pretended
i’m kyrie irving with the ball, you’re the ref defendin’ (uh*huh)
a mixed match, crossed, stepped back then drive the lane
i’ve been posturizin’ lanes since my first game (uh*huh, uh*huh)
seen it on the ambulance pull up, then thе he*rs* came
anothеr bloodbath, k!llin’ sh*t in the worst way
f*ck outta here, no get kid next to me with the wordplay
bare first the couple of thousands to prefer pain
when i’m describin’ all of my peers, i use the word ”prey”
i chase ’em down like a cheetah to rip off they face (uh)
of course, i say grace before i eat your food, that’s just the custom (uh*huh)
tryna double the duckets, i had to cut the substance (i did)
leveled up, now it’s raw like no rubber f*ckin’
and death is one off course, like the sleep’s other cousin
d*mn right, these rappers suck, they shoulda stuck to hustlin’ (you n*ggas trash)
or stayed at the stock room in walmart
i’m a allstar, been hittin’ sh*t out the ballpark
sorta like ken griffey and sammy sosa when his skin was dark
attracted to the money, like blood in the water around a shark
outed every knife from the drawyer, i’m the most sharp (uh*huh)
all sk!lled like phil taylor how i throw the darts
they’re accurate, like a army sniper k!llin’ marks
i used to hustle in the park, bags of white in dark
a minor way to monetize off my street smarts
now i’m tryna clean up all the money like some ozark
pay up, if you won’t, or blunt forced trauma from a blow
that’ll permanently separate you from your soul (that n*gga’s dead)
lately i been on a roll, hittin’ goals
havin’ my way, changin’ the program like the remote control (huh)
get smoked if you broke the code
you better stay wise, a lot of guys risk they lives to fold the road
n*gga, this the overload, had to hit it with the hammer then the bolder broke
and then i sold a o (what?)
cuties love it like the hoes do ovo
you novice n*ggas ain’t got nothin’ you can show a pro
this bolo in the dojo, get your shoulder broke
can’t figure out the smell, hold the oldest dope
burnin’ off the spoon
and if you motherf*ckin’ songs ever come on, we turn off the tune
f*ck outta here, n*gga (n*gga what?)
[chorus]
rewind us, top rhymers
the finest, rap gems so timeless
we stealth [?] gem dropper, make the ghet*ghetto holler
rewind us, top rhymers
rap gems so timeless
stealth [?] gem dropper, make the ghet*ghetto holler, ghetto holler
[outro: method man]
if it’s mc’s, rapper, different, i get that
but if you got mc’s, you want all lyrical content
i don’t give a f*ck how many records this motherf*cker sold
or how many f*ckin’, or how, what his influence was
on the f*ckin’, uh, fashion industry and sh*t like that (uh*huh, word)
you know what i mean
you know certain n*ggas, when they, when you hear they verses
you pay attention (attention, right)
because you know this n*gga about to say some sh*t (right), facts for real
and that’s the whole griselda
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