[Deala]
Intro:
Yeah, dirty shit now
I gonna show you wtf I'm talkin' 'bout
I start
1 verse:
Who's still makin' snaps?
Your ass is too short to reach the pedals n accomplish the fuckin' laps
I don't give a God damn 'bout the shit that your homies evry day in the night head straight to the shacks
I'm makin' the record of my shit in the flat, so that's the reason why it's no' phat
It's 7 in the mornin' when the new fuckin' modern rappa turns into the dull ho slappa, I can't seek real bitches in the jails who are dappa
We start playin' basketball n football with my homie in the Deala's hood
When I get the peak, the all assholes who hate my verse will have got their minds blown n they'll try to not know me
So, tell me where the fuck the real ol' skool is?
Today nuthin' but only mine n this shit might be like the masterpiece
I don't have got the Impala '64 or Mac-10
In order to survive in this fuckin' world ya must be above the law n neva land
On the shady places, but I can
Your possibilities are runnin outta time
The fuckin cops are bitches, if they are ho slappas
Assholes must get outta the town
'Cuz Deala is comin'
You think, if your fat ass still mobbin', I'm stoppin
But u're wrong 'cuz the road is so narrow that means you will be in my trunk so long
N nuthin' can be done 'bout that
If you still consider my track is no' phat
U r stupid busta n will suck every dick crack of dawn, I neva change my tone
I don't give a fuck 'bout the fuckin your dreadful modern son'
So, just whether ya wanna stay alive ya must play poker with me or a ping-pong
Hey, get the fuck out my dope lawn!
Chorus:
Who's still wanna deal to the ho slappa, the real ol' skool rappa ain't dappa
If you wanna say the shitty stuff to me, I'll pull out your fuckin' dirty clappa
2 verse:
I don't give a God damn 'bout the fuckin' ho slappa, 'cuz he is much fatter than the dull modern rappa
Ass of mine is more dappa
So anyway I gonna step up on bad soldiers which ain't back up n fallin' down straight to tha land
Who can accomplish the fuckin lap' huh?
It's almost ain't snowin' in our edges
I don't give a muthafuck, if you get more fetches
At this fuckin' time when I do rap I'm in the 10th grade
Who stands on my way I make those assholes get fade, tha gangsta rap appeared in the California state
The more I publish my shit the more chances I'll get payed
Life in my city is not criminal that in the 90's in LA
I neva' respected ho slappas, so I gonna get rid of 'em n after say 'take ur fat ass to the hutch n go straight to the bottom of the bay'
Now my fuckin' age is 16
You neva' touch her ass, 'cuz all your homies are pristine
But the deala has bin 'round again
You even don't know what ol' skool is
Stallone gonna get freezed in the chamber
Bad azzez can open that shit only usin' the damn hammer
Mc Ren dropped the real shit, but y'all neva' listened to that hit
So the bitch made nigga killa, like he said
Evidently all bitches r mine, they go straight to the Deala
Ho slappas neva' reach success in their dreadful lives, 'cuz they deal only to the bustas n after all this shit they get killed by the knives
Chorus:
3 verse:
I won't be upset, if I don't get the dough that I deserve, anyway those muthafuckas will be gone straight to the fuckin depth
Each rap of mine gets rougher n my dick evryday in my shorts gets tougher
All fuckin' cops who wanna catch me in a result get nuthin', 'cuz I just can make your big fat ass droppin'
All ho slappas, I mean the fuckin' modern dappa rappas do always copyin'
No one n nuthin' can bother me, so I'll neva be stoppin'
You can't go alon' the road, 'cuz it's so narrow due to ur fuckin big fat ass, so your motto in life is 'fuck with the dirty fellow'
But tell me, who wanna get dealt to the man who got the double barrel?
My rap's style gets steady, if u gonna fuck with me
I'm ready
In the rap son', I mean 'Pull The Trigger' I said that the doctor recommended me to not lift heavy thangs, but that phrase is a total shit, the villain still wanna swim with his ho on the Thames
I say lotta shit too
Your ass is too small to get my clue of that rap that I do
I neva' believe in the fate, you build your life, but fo' your ass it's already late
So, who's still gonna hate this shit that my rap must be payed?
I'm sittin' on that throne n droppin' real verses usin' the damn phone
I'm the Deala n I'll neva' change my style n my tone
I'm actually ready fo' breakin' down your fuckin' bone
I said that evry day in the mornin' I slap a ho, if I really do that, so this is a shitty stuff
But I don't do that damn activity so often
Deala must let 'em know that I ain't the fuckin
Ho slappa, who wannabe a dappa
Outro:
N the main than' is the end of the 7th rap son'
It's just the end of the 1st episode like that
But it's not the album, 'cuz I ain't popular now to release it
But these 7 tracks r so crazy n will have a huge sense!
