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don't front - styles p lyrics

[verse:1]

you should take the cross off ya neck
and pray to jesus
i’m breaking every rapper up to like 80 pieces
i done sat in the cell and stared at the wall
and i swear to god i’ll air all of y’all
i live by the sword and the pistol
summer time i’m outside with n-gg-s with pit bulls
i don’t smoke the haze if it ain’t got the crystals
look at my eyes you can tell that i’ll lift you
i’m in the db9 when i’m coming to get you
i’m with my arab man and he holding the missiles
i’m saying f-ck all of y’all
if you don’t understand let make it real clear
i’m saying what to all of y’all
no more videos or them silly hoes
riding on your d-ck when i cut all of y’all
the game too p-ssy
i think it need change i wanna see the barrel flame til’ their brain gets mushy
east coast ghost ain’t no other rapper in the game
that you know play the streets so close
still bring pain
five more shots than y’all mother f-ckers do in that max payne game
anybody front i’m knocking em’ out
d-blockin’ em’ out that means i’m a sn-tch his chain
[verse:2]

all y’all food and sp’s hungry
your face can get this 8 or sp’s lungy
don’t compare him to me
unless he’s grungy
i bring him to the bridge and just say he bungy
you don’t wanna problem with dog dog
trey pound seven nine mil or the four four
listen up
i like y’all muh-f-ckers to pop sh-t
talk about the ghost i’m a p-ss on your top lip
why get dropped in your drop whip
feel me if i feel like you b-tch
then i’m leaving you topless
i ain’t gon’ lie i be ego trippin’
anything that make it jump have the eagle spittin’
this year they better hide the pretenders
n-gg-s only ride in their vehicles
and grind in their blenders
i came home august
n-gg-s should be happy for the mother f-ckin’ fact they ain’t die in september
only time i play is when i’m with the kids
when i say i’m spraying the nine that’s what it is
and i’m still making heroin sales,plus haze too
nine mil laser send you to jesus
this sh-ts a book
i’m the crook writing it
know your man died when we turned on to page two
f-ck around get laid down
cause ain’t nothing in the world like a big trey pound, what

- styles p lyrics

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