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rap city freestyle - state property lyrics

[verse 1: beanie sigel]
ayo j*a*d*a, pinkett or kiss
no matter how i look at him, i think of a chick
no matter how i switch it up, think of a actor
kid stick to the script i’ma give him a clip
styles died on a holiday
kiss die on a holiday, shots like first of year
on ya’ block like first of month, you get shot from the front to the rear
got glocks in the back of the trunk, got pumps on the back of the seat
young punks on the back of the street
ak’s in they hand, they let the latest movie edit they life
i keep the latest uzi letting off pipes, that’s gangsta
i’m in a class all by myself, run they ass all by myself, that’s danger
you want a war n*gga that’s what it is
full*metal jackets dressing ya’ kids

[verse 2: young chris]
they screaming d*block like they ready to die today
i clip hood, rest of the clip for holiday
and, jada gon’ hate us ‘til his ass buried
but yonkers want no more drama, ask mary
be for real
you ain’t a real homie, all my real homies know it’s d for real
mouthpiece for all y’all
mack cooked his beef, that loss kiss took speaks for all y’all
man they all broads
i got something fresh out the box if [?] tempt me i let ‘em all off
cut at you haters
j*hood play g it be ya’ death homie, just like jada
[verse 3: neef buck]
if he fall pick him up, if he draw hit him up, that’s like worshipping me
blood in blood out like american me
slug in slugs out ya’ tee
a throw*back jersey
i throw back straight you throw back curves
chump, i throw back k’s you throw back words
so what you saying dog, it’s war you want me to spell it out
w*a*r, s, u’s and double ar’s
flow switch like clips and every bit of 16
had a bid when i was barely 16
used to spit 16’s up the block with 60
now i spit 16’s off the top of 60

[verse 4: freeway]
yo, i don’t care who you are
or care who you think you is, offer salat ‘til i’m close to allah
send you closer to allah, the k back center ya’ kids, split wigs, rip holes through ya’ car
you think you got the people scarred, that’s what it is
i rap with they kids ay pr*ck you better chilly chill
plenty gats, plenty stacks, bricks from the eses
run up on you and plug you like pepe
while you seeing ya’ chick, 16 in a clip
everywhere i go keep my steel
and y’all just rapping, you ain’t tryna move it up, bang it out, keep it real
‘cause, if we banging out, ain’t no hanging out
transformer style, heat your grill
gats allah gave us locked and load
shake rattle and roll
‘til you fall in shape, listen pr*ck
i brought my k to ny through three tours
extended the clip, freeway i’m causing ya’ wake
50 in the b*tt, one in the *ick, you can get it all in the face
l!cking*

- state property lyrics

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