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spit again - smif n wessun lyrics

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spit again is on yo set, on deck
sound bombing three with my dudes
mr. choc, big cyphs (rob ya all day, yeah, what)

[verse 1]
lord some boy gon’ get dead tonight
l!cking p-ssy oh boy didn’t i man?
oh boy one, test ten if he come try
many morroco suffer, many morroco die
semi-autos to stutter bucka, bucka, bbucka
calling popo for cover, rhyming with cocoa brovaz
pure murder since the day of discover
one-of-a-kind never find another
spit rhymes like no other
sick line grip chrome nines with rubber
get high in public, ride in trucks puffing
slide in clubs scutting, wh0r- hunting, start buzzing
’till sun grows something, google on something
ya’ll lame like ruffin’ s-xy something it don’t nothing

[hook]

[verse 2]
(fire bun) man i deal what the f-ck rick
mack 11 on ya now ya traffic touch with
ya gun know check the steal on ya guns
with the world wide champion k!ller sound
yeah yeah boy, who you wanna rump with?
so you can call the police on some clap sh-t
you ain’t gangster i live by the street code
been told never let beef grow old, get rid of that
like prince crime pistols muzzle’ em up
half of a man on the dash, trucks guzzle it up
like i’m highway hustling hazing it up
star and buck ain’t the only n-ggas heatin’ it up

[hook]

[bridge 1]
it’s like murder (scared boy gangster run away)
it’s like murder (informer boy informer)

[bridge 2] x3
no, no, no don’t take from now and then
can’t test the sound, so boy we run you outta town

[verse 3]
lord some boy gon’ get dead tonight
grimy of the never since i been out the light
in the eyes of the media, f-ck’em yo
i’m still out in public taking the dough
got a fiend for the right guard with hands like apes
for the strips from the plate gorilla smack ya face
rhyme a day no rhyme but it’s nine to spray
keep a safe full of bail money just in case

[verse 4]
the routs we take have us on the run from jake
the rules we break keep us on the move for cake
n-ggas can’t wait to hate, dj’s dub my plate
these days the pj’s ain’t safe
weed smoke clouds my face, wh0r-s be crowd my sp-ce
twin fofo’s ’round my waist, keep a extra round to waste
some x some haze, smith and wesson ga ga ga threat ya stage

[hook]

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