[Hook: Sneek Rothstein]
Get out my face
I’m not afraid to catch another case
I keep it on the waist
There's a lot of opportunists in your face space
I don’t chase, I’m in your face like mace
Fist to your mouth, now enjoy the taste
Automatic threat, check my color and my race
[Verse 1: Mansa Musa]
Motherfuckers wanna know, this is how it goes
Pull up on you quick with the pistol
You too busy steady running your mouth
It’s too late when the hollows ring out
I keep airing em out
Too many fake MCs, too many wannabe’s
Too many enemies perpetrating their frenemy
I’m the epitome, you’ll never be as cold as me
I’ll let the hollows go and leave you slumped like a Kennedy
Lyrical warfare, I hit you with the quickness
I’ll kill you with the illest verse, leave you dick in the dirt
Don’t get it fucked up, don’t get it twisted
The frames are Cartier, the rollie is flawless
The car is double R, the scene is California
Tipping on premium, from the city of champions
Lyrical killer by nature, We all niggas still hating
And searching for the flavor
[Hook: Sneek Rothstein]
Get out my face
I’m not afraid to catch another case
I keep it on the waist
There's a lot of opportunists in your face space
I don’t chase, I’m in your face like mace
Fist to your mouth, now enjoy the taste
Automatic threat, check my color and my race
[Verse 2: Sneek Rothstein]
Never been a bitch, give a fuck what a snitch
Put it on the wrist, stack chips
Now my wrist glitter
I’m the pick of the litter nigga, homerun hitter
Count money while I’m sitting on the shitter
Make em bitter
Go hard in the paint never been a quitter
We gone always be around, we them ones you can’t get rid of
I’ma climb up in your grid, uh, crotchet your face like a knitter
Wrong move that will get you hit up
They see them zeros and they keep them on they toes
Resurrect the dead like when Jesus arose
I got that money and hoes that wild out at my shows
You got to set your goal to stay in control
We manipulating the polls for votes and hope
They’ll drop the soap ‘cause that’s all she wrote
Never raw dogged, keep a cover like a coat
I don’t touch the ground I float
I keep it on the waist
There’s a lot of opportunity and space
I don’t chase, I’m in your face like mace
Fist to your mouth, now enjoy the taste
Automatic threat, check my color and my race
[Verse 3: Dios Negasi]
Popping that shit, put hands on a nigga like a brand for him
Stomp the nigga out, left the Jordan Jumpman shooting brand on him
They was still playing, few grands I’ma have my shooter spraying for em
Big K rounds soak his frame have it looking like it rained on
Boy it’s my time that's according to the hands on this Daytona
Ain’t a nigga out put in more work since he had a slave owned
Niggas acting crazy till his ribcage turn him to a brain donor
All you spit is lame, where yo gang gang tell em that the breaks over
D boy nigga since the yola on the corner let it bake over
Not only do I MC I’m fucking with the keys like I’m Bethoven
Let's not forget we out the city where the niggas post the gang culture
Where if hittas think you sweet as Frank Ocean in slow motion they gone toast ya
Pop the trunk, shot, I don’t really want it
My choppa shot ain’t no seatbelt on it
I pull up fast, ain’t no sense in running
The clip is dumping till it empty stomach
Nasty fucker, take shits in public
Yo body slumped now that’s food for buzzards
Kil the track, yes I really does it
I beat the beats like an abusive husband
The world [?] has got us all fucked up
The government ordered up a stay away
The young homie still in the hood on a late-night active, and won’t put the K away
Niggas serving base like a 808
Running up the blue strips in a major way
Try to double that up, hit the motherfucking lot
And cop a brand new Benz with the paper plates
Cutthroat, I don’t trust a soul
You too close if you smell my cologne
Bitch don’t touch me I got Gucci on
And a fit ain’t a fit without the toolie on
And the toolie gone protect all this jewelry on
Nigga my life paid in full, ain’t no movie on
Now respect it or check it
On and off the record
Bitch I’m a don like Julio
I’m a motherfucking menace, no relation to Dennis
On the front line, anything I start I’ma finish
Eastside nigga and I been with the business
Feet on 3 o’clock, colored strings in my tennis
Posted up sipping on Bel-Air
Getting money saying farewell to welfare
Caught a opp slipping with a butterknife
And gave it to his ass with a killtec
Spinned off like the old J’s
I’m street, don’t cross me, look both ways
I’m a boy in the hood like O’Shea
Labels won’t sign me ‘cause I’m stuck in my old ways
I’m Skrilla, the dealer, the killer, whatever
I don’t duck nothing but bill collectors
Only real niggas
Think it’s a game you gone feel the precious
Only real niggas gone feel my lecture
Skrilla
[Hook: Sneek Rothstein]
Get out my face
I’m not afraid to catch another case
I keep it on the waist
There's a lot of opportunists in your face space
I don’t chase, I’m in your face like mace
Fist to your mouth, now enjoy the taste
Automatic threat, check my color and my race
[Verse 4: Skrillz Dior]
Take em off the lot, no slowing
[?] but the thoughts still hoeing
Still do illegal things but the cops not knowing
Still moving, bitch you know I got a job lot going
I ain’t got no speech if you bogus
We getting to the money, tryna eat like a locust
Better only speak on what you knowing
‘Fore them goons clapping at you like they happy and they know it
Hold up who the fuck is this calling?
Another dope rapper, tryna add him to my wallet
Ask around, the people they’ll tell you I’m the hottest
They reminded me of Tails, the ain’t fucking with my Sonic
Hit the lot and smoke some hydroponic
Half of y’all seeming to be stuck up in the closet
I don’t fuck with most, I’m being honest
They say my life a movie, well I ain’t tryna watch it
