LAZY3X, Lil Darkie — 2K FREESTYLE

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Текст LAZY3X, Lil Darkie — 2K FREESTYLE

2DIRTYY
Chain, fake
Yeah, yeah, uh
Glocky, glocky
Yeah, ayy!
Spaz, spaz (ayy)

I grip on the stick, bitch I grip automatic
These niggas they fake, they faker than plastic
I stay with the tool just like a mechanic
You not gon’ shoot nigga, can it
I pull up and shoot, not shootin’ no candids
They bullets they rip ’em, he need a bandage
The hollows will tear through ’em like a fabric
Boy stop all the cap, boy stop all the antics

In these niggas’ songs, they fuck up my adlibs
Pull up with the chrome and it can get tragic
I make him disappear like magic
The Glock with the dick, it get pornographic
Pull up with the poles, turn him holographic
Pull up with the beam and I’m wreakin’ havoc
You is a bitch, you not a savage
And I got yo’ bitch tied up in my attic

I put it in rare like she is hispanic
Better change yo’ plan, better change yo’ tactics
I pull up on block, then that nigga panic
Pull up with the Glock, leave that nigga tatted
But that nigga go, better check his status
Get hit with the pole, got that nigga spazzin’
I fuck up her back, I’m givin’ her spasms
I’m killin’ that nigga, throw him in a casket

But close yo’ eyes before shit get graphic
Pull up with the glizz, split him like a atom
My money is small, my money elastic
I leave him underwater, Titanic
I poured me a four now, I’m finna test it
Full clip, shoot a panoramic
Get hit with the Glock, change the demographic
That nigga a snitch, nigga stop rappin’

The bullets they kiss, uh, romantic
Bitch, I got the clips, boy stop the theatrics
The chopper get wild, but the shit get jurrasic
Pull up with the tool, I shoot like a basket
Pull up with the shot, leave him in a casket
My nigga stay with it, my niggas aggressive
Pull up on that nigga if he not attentive
Not takin’ my chain ’cause I got a weapon

We can get lit, we can get festive
The Glock with the dick, you get molested
This thing on my side just like a detective
The bullets abuse him, we get domestic
I bought me designer, boy, this shit expensive
I put him on TV, uh, Progressive
I look at your money, that shit not impressive
The glocky is on me, this shit is oppressive

This nigga get popped like anti-depressant
Pull up with the dick, I’m sprayin’ propellant
Chopper go ssssss, Febreeze!
Shawty a thot, she get on her knees
You don’t fit the lick, don’t fit the description
Bitch I’m in Detroit, I ball like a Piston
Pull up on his house, don’t need no permission
I leave ’em wrapped up, Egyptian

Pull up with the beam and eat ’em like Skittles
I send him home, early dismissal
And I get yo’ bitch, get played like a fiddle
That nigga want problems, he get stumped like a riddle
These niggas they rats, Stuart Little
Too cool for school, I stay in detention
You say that’s yo’ bitch, why she in my mentions
Turn him to a ghost, Danny Phantom (ha, ha)

Glocky!
2DIRTYY

I’m king of this shit, yeah, I do it with elegance
I’m in the zone, I’m in my element
I’m with the spiders and all of ’em venomous
Can’t give me brain if the bitch unintelligent
Hoes are retarded, I guess I’ll be celibate
Indian nigga, I’m up on a elephant
Why you be rapping if you so irrelevant?
Wait ’til your genitals go through development

I hit his skeleton, turn it to gelatin
Make his spirit fly up high like a pelican
Fuck a human being amount of melanin
Doesn’t make a nigga more-so malevolent
You know I tell ’em it, animal delegate
Stealing and burning and kill for the hell of it
All of these rappers is funny, it evident
All of ’em fucking witchu for the benefit

Do I be fucking with them, it’s a negative
Niggas be actin’ complacent on sedatives
All of yo’ music is getting repetitive
Like how I rap on this track but it’s better if
I just get credited, I ain’t invented it
I just be gassing you all off adrenaline
I’m so competitive
Everyone got they opinion, but all of it relative

I’m in the cut my niggas, bacteria
Always be honest with niggas that near to ya’
Niggas fall off always acting superior
I’m in the gut of this slut, her interior
Wanna join us, you don’t meet the criteria
I got the rocket that popping in Syria
I be so cold to these nigga, Siberia
If I’m on the track, get up, nigga I carry ya

Pull out yo’ spine, make a nigga invertebrate
I’m in the city, it got a high murder rate
Pussy ass niggas be talking, they sure to hate
Should I abort this lil’ nigga, that’s her debate
Uhhh
Pull up I dump out a, «Wait, running man, running man»
Someone better get a weight, put a gram on a pan!
Bitch you on the front of gate, jump it then, jump it then
Fuck it get a cutter mate, GTA on demand

Vroom, vroom!
Might hotwire the whip and I zoom, zoom!
These niggas be shittin’ like boom, boom!
I’m winnin’ I’m grinnin’, a loon toon!
That nigga want smoke but ain’t put in
They butthole, I’m puttin’ my foot in
Get out of yo’ feelings, you could win
But you way too cold to be cool then!

Ahhh!
I put my dick in her mouth and she suck it up!
I’m on yo’ block and I’m barkin’ like, «What is up»
I will not fuck a hoe unless her butt is up!
Nigga be sucking toes, man what the fuck is up wit’ em!
My gun on my denim, I send him to Heaven!
I get ’em outside of the 7-Eleven!
He want it I bring ’em, a spider I sting ’em!
The poison is in ’em, I’m done on the rhythm!