10-16-2021, 11:58 PM | #1 |
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DOPE GIRL VS KUNG LGI
Let's go.....I'm going to lick your asshole
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10-17-2021, 12:07 AM | #2 |
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Check
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10-18-2021, 01:55 AM | #3 |
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Fat ugly clit sucking bitch
I'll drop 12 when I'm ready....sour pussy whore |
10-18-2021, 04:07 AM | #4 |
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I didnt agree to this but im into it
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10-20-2021, 01:07 AM | #5 |
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First off, fuck your bitch and the click you claim
Westside when we ride come equipped with game You claim to be a player but I fucked your wife We bust on Bad Boy niggaz fucked for life Plus Puffy tryin' ta see me weak hearts I rip Biggie Smalls and Junior M.A.F.I.A. Some mark-ass bitches We keep on comin' while we runnin' for yo' jewels Steady gunnin, keep on bustin at them fools, you know the rules Lil' Ceaser, go ask ya homie how I leave ya Cut your young ass up, leave you in pieces, now be deceased Lil' Kim, don't fuck around with real G's Quick to snatch yo' ugly ass off the streets, so fuck peace I let them niggaz know it's on for life So let the Westside ride tonight Bad Boy murdered on wax and killed Fuck wit' me and get yo' caps peeled, you know, see Grab ya glocks, when you see Tupac Call the cops, when you see Tupac, uh Who shot me, but ya punks didn't finish Now ya bout to feel the wrath of a menace Nigga, we hit em' up Yes, yo, Outlaw to this mutherfucker (take money) West Coast, what's up? (take money) What's up Get out the way yo, get out the way yo Biggie Smalls just got shot Little Moo, pass the mac, and let me hit him in his back Frank White need to get spanked right, for settin' traps Little accident murderers, and I ain't never heard-a ya Poisinous gats attack when I'm servin' ya Spank ya shank ya whole style when I gank Guard your rank, 'cause I'ma slam your ass in the paint Puffy weaker than the fuckin' block I'm runnin through nigga And I'm smokin' Junior M.A.F.I.A. in front of you nigga With the ready power tuckin' my Guess under my Eddie Bauer Ya clout petty sour, I get packages every hour to hit 'em up Oh Call the cops, when you see Tupac Who shot me, but ya punks didn't finish Now ya bout to feel the wrath of a menace Nigga, I hit em' up Peep how we do it, keep it real, it's penitentiary steel This ain't no freestyle battle All you niggaz gettin killed with ya mouths open Tryin' to come up offa me, you in the clouds hopin' Smokin dope it's like a sherm high niggaz think they learned to fly But they burn motherfucker, you deserve to die Talkin' bout you gettin' money but it's funny to me All you niggaz livin' bummy, why you fuckin' with me? I'm a self made millionaire Thug livin' out a prison, pistols in the air Biggie, remember when I used to let you sleep on the couch And beg a bitch to let you sleep in the house Now it's all about Versace, you copied my style Five shots couldn't drop me, I took it and smiled Now I'm bout to set the record straight With my A.K. I'm still the thug that you love to hate Motherfucker, I hit 'em up I'm from N-E-W Jers' Where plenty of murders occurs No points or commas, we bring drama to all you herbs Now go check the scenario Little Ceas' I'll bring you fake G's to your knees Copping pleas in de Janeiro Little Kim, is you coked up or doped up? Get your little Junior Whopper click smoked up What the fuck, is you stupid? I take money, crash and mash through Brooklyn With my click looting, shooting and polluting your block With a 15-shot cocked Glock to your knot Outlaw MAFIA clique moving up another notch And your pop stars popped and get mopped and dropped And all your fake ass East coast props Brainstormed and locked You's a, beat biter A Pac style taker I'll tell you to your face you ain't shit but a faker Softer than Alize with a chaser About to get murdered for the paper E.d.i Amin approach the scene of the caper Like a loc, with Little Ceas' in a choke Gun totin' smoke. We ain't no motherfucking joke nigga, better be known We approaching in the wide open, gun smoking No need for hoping, it's a battle lost I got em crossed as soon as the funk is bopping off Nigga, I hit em up Oh oh Hah yeah We hit 'em up Grab ya glocks, when you see Tupac Come on with the next shit Who shot me, but ya punks didn't finish Now ya bout to feel the wrath of a menace Nigga, we hit em' up That's right Go Yo Y'all gotta keep this shit real |
10-20-2021, 01:08 AM | #6 |
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Brace yourself for the main event
Y'all impatiently waiting It's like an AIDS test, what's the results? Not positive, who's the best? Pac, Nas and Big Ain't no best, East, West, North, South, flossed out, greedy I embrace y'all with napalm Blows up, no guts, left chest, face gone How could Nas be garbage? Semi-autos at your cartilage Burner at the side of your dome, come outta my throne I got this, locked since '9-1 I am the truest, name a rapper that I ain't influenced Gave y'all chapters but now I keep my eyes on the Judas With Hawaiian Sophie fame, kept my name in his music Check it Fuck with your soul like ether (Will) Teach you the king you know you (Not) "God's son" across the belly (Lose) I prove you lost already Hey yo, pass me the weed, pour my ashes out on these niggas man (no doubt) Hey, y'all fagots, y'all kneel and kiss the fuckin' ring Fuck with your soul like ether (Will) Teach you the king you know you (Not) "God's son" across the belly (Lose) I prove you lost already I've been fucked over, left for dead, dissed and forgotten Luck ran out, they hoped that I'd be gone, stiff and rotten Y'all just piss on me, shit on me, spit on my grave (uh) Talk about me, laugh behind my back but in my face Y'all some "well wishers, " friendly acting, envy hiding snakes With your hands out for my money, man, how much can I take? When these streets keep calling, heard it when I was sleep That this Gay-Z and Cockafella Records wanted beef Started cocking up my weapon, slowly loading up this ammo To explode it on a camel, and his soldiers, I can handle This for dolo and it's manuscript, just sound stupid When KRS already made an album called Blueprint First, Biggie's ya man, then you got the nerve to say that you better than Big Dick sucking lips, whyn't you let the late, great veteran live "God's son" across the belly, I prove you lost already The king is back, where my crown at? (I'll, will) Ill Will rest in peace, let's do it niggas Fuck with your soul like ether (Will) Teach you the king you know you (Not) "God's son" across the belly (Lose) I prove you lost already Y'all niggas deal with emotions like bitches What's sad is I love you 'cause you're my brother You traded your soul for riches My child, I've watched you grow up to be famous And now I smile like a proud dad, watching his only son that made it You seem to be only concerned with dissing women Were you abused as a child, scared to smile, they called you ugly? Well life is hard, hug me, don't reject me Or make records to disrespect me, blatant or indirectly In '88 you was getting chased through your building Calling my crib and I ain't even give you my numbers All I did was gave you a style for you to run with Smiling in my face, glad to break bread with the god Wearing Jaz chains, no TECs, no cash, no cars No jail bars Jigga, no pies, no case Just Hawaiian shirts, hanging with little Chase You a fan, a phony, a fake, a pussy, a Stan I still whip your ass, you thirty-six in a karate class You Tae-bo hoe, trying to work it out, you tryna' get brolic? Ask me if I'm trying to kick knowledge Nah, I'm trying to kick the shit you need to learn though That ether, that shit that make your soul burn slow Is he Dame Diddy, Dame Daddy or Dame Dummy? Oh, I get it, you Biggie and he's Puffy Rockafeller died of AIDS, that was the end of his chapter And that's the guy y'all chose to name your company after? Put it together, I rock hoes, y'all rock fellas And now y'all try to take my spot, fellas? Philly's hot rock fellas, put you in a dry spot, fellas In a pine box with nine shots from my Glock, fellas Foxy got you hot 'cause you kept your face in her puss What you think, you getting girls now 'cause of your looks? Ne-gro please You no mustache having, with whiskers like a rat Compared to Beans you wack And your man stabbed Un and made you take the blame You ass, went from Jaz to hanging with Caine, to Herb, to Big And, Eminem murdered you on your own shit You a dick-riding fagot, you love the attention Queens niggas run you niggas, ask Russell Simmons Ha, R-O-C get gunned up and clapped quick J.J. Evans get gunned up and clapped quick Your whole damn record label gunned up and clapped quick Shaun Carter to Jay-Z, damn you on Jaz dick So little shorty's getting gunned up and clapped quick How much of Biggie's rhymes is goin' come out your fat lips? Wanted to be on every last one of my classics You pop shit, apologize, nigga, just ask Kiss |
10-20-2021, 01:10 AM | #7 |
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e gon' handle this like grown men, you won't win
You don't even feel comfortable in your own skin I rap my ass off, I'm fightin' the champ with the glass jaw At the Garden or Nassau (Uh-huh) See me, couple hood niggas behind stars I heard you put a couple good niggas behind bars (Preme!) I might never sell that much But you can bet your last two quarters I never tell that much Picture 'Kiss not come out swingin' It's like going to see 50 at a show And he don't come out singin' (C'mon!) Yeah, you got a felony, but you ain't a predicate (Nuh-uh) Never the King of New York, you live in Connecticut (Haha) You don't be in the hood, you be in the woods Fuckin' with me, it's where you really gon' be for good (Ugh) I hold the 4-5 myself (Ch-chk) And hop out the Range on 1-4-5 myself (What up!) This is a true fact Since when has it become cool to get shot and not shoot back? (Never) Trackmasters shelved you (Ugh), Bravehearts helped you (Ugh) Then everybody felt you (Uh-huh), now I gotta melt you (Yeah) And don't try to pull rank on 'Kiss ‘Cause the niggas I'ma send to do it ain't gon' miss Be layed up stiff, I spit straight up piff I did real songs with Big, no made-up shits (Ah!) And I don't got a problem with clout You ain't get shot again yet So what's your second album about? (Nothin'!) Your raps are pre-school You made a lot of money, now be cool 'Fore I swell up your lips like seafood (Mmm) Can I get a mic check? You don't stand a chance at the dance with me, dawg Your steps ain't right yet (Uh-uh) Block is just fine, homie, the D's straight (D-Block) Most likely, your new CD is a weed plate (Haha) Bunch of love songs, 100% pure garbage (Garbage) Just somethin' to break up buds on You should just sell clothes and sneakers ‘Cause outta your whole camp Your flow's the weakest (Garbage) I'm in the town where the young boys is clappin' (Clappin) You runnin' around with the lieutenant and captain (Haha!) It'll take a lifetime to see 'Kiss You had to get shot 9 times to be rich |
10-21-2021, 11:56 PM | #8 |
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You can't handle my bars are too much for your brain to maintain//
Say you can beat me your bars going to drain// Claim you spit China fine I'll crush your lines You don't deserve to be in The King of the Ring You dropped tracks nobody Jam You try to diss me still didn't go ham Trying to take shots at chicks still don't get no love You ain't on my level you can't reach above |
10-22-2021, 12:43 AM | #9 |
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Jesus
That's alot of lines Edit: didnt realize it was just Hit Em Up May write to this May not Who's to really say Last edited by kungfugrip; 10-22-2021 at 12:46 AM. |
10-22-2021, 01:17 AM | #10 | |
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Quote:
This made my dick wet |
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10-22-2021, 09:25 PM | #11 | |
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