Papoose | Funk Flex | #Freestyle076 lyrics

by

Cassidy


[Intro]
Yeah
Rolling in the coupe
Yeah
Ahh man…
Ok, y’all know what it is
Brooklyn whassup man!
We on it man
Yo yo yo

[Verse]
Kaepernick set an example for the NFL
None of 'em listen
Now they all kneeling since Trump called them sons of a b*tches
Hurricane Harvey happened during the harvest
The first five letters the same, peep the logic
H-A-R-V-E, let’s be honest
I’m sending my condolences it’s a government project
Militant, I keep the Magnum usually
Quick to grab the Uzi
If I get hot again, man I ain’t doing songs with nobody, I’m acting snooty
I would never let another rapper use me
Ain’t have a deal in years, still flashing jewelry
Do I look I got left off of Bad & Boujee
Grown men, bunched up in the club, where the women at
G sh*t, call me Heathcliff, I’m a different cat
You slap me? Then I slap you, I can’t get with that
You slap me? I gotta clap you, ain’t no tit for tat
n*ggas spit it wack, claiming that they can spit with Pap
Your ghostwriter got a ghostwriter, what kind of sh*t is that?
Run-DMC, I was rocking the leather one
Biggie had the game locked, I was c*cking Barettas
Hip-hop raised me, I’m wiser than never
I knock the snot outta ya snot box, like Floyd did Conor McGregor
You telling me this clown is a killer, silly guys
The only clown who I know was a killer was Pennywise
This ain’t the movies, and you not it
So if you play me for a fool, I'ma shoot my sh*t
Yo, you take the stand for that pus*y
You turn on your own man for that pus*y
You do anything for the pus*y
Well to me, that just means you a pus*y
I do it big for the queen
Yo, I take a swing for the queen
Yeah, that’s how I live for the queen
My wife caught a case, I did a bid with the queen
Yo, I make it hot for the queen
I do the wop for the queen
C’mon, I take shots for the queen
Got married on “Love & Hip-Hop” for the queen
Touched foes, before I could even touch “0s”
I had to lock load, reload and unload
You think drug money is free I suppose
That money about as free as a man with his cuffs closed
Hammers I tuck those
Them cameras I duck those
Ran on the rough road
My stamina unfolds
Amateurs uh-oh
Up there with your punk flows
Stand with my son O
We planning watch us blow
Damn I’m a f*cking pro
Stairs are the cutting flows
Put my hand on the banister
Managed to climb up those
Won’t let me in the club 'cause they see the gun bulge
Wait for the bouncers after the club closed
Y’all n*ggas be in the club throwin' dem ‘bows
I ain’t throwin' no elbow, hell no, I’m throwin' them foes
Rappers’ll talk greasy to you with your flows
That’s why I keep a lot of boogers in my snub nose
Clowns’ the reason this game's become cold
But they dissolve when the sun rose
If your man is strength you the weakness, you vulnerable n*gga
He make you feel safe cause he roll with you n*gga?
If I bag him down, what you supposed to do n*gga?
I stick y’all up like promotional stickers
I’m a lyricist, every line is a quotable n*gga
Damn soldiers stand closer, stand over you n*gga
Y’all doing n*ggas over, one Hova you n*ggas
I’m the first Papoose, no overdue n*gga
Flow treacherous, I spit pain on those records
And you enjoyed it, 'cause my pain is your pleasure
Most masterful messenger who speak with the most methods
Don’t threaten the messenger, just respect your message
No substance, no presence, they so pressured
So threatened, rappers is buying they own records
True school graduate, you in the lower grade
And you keep blocking the sun, you throwin' shade
My dough is made, them other dudes is overpaid
I’m so hot I blow up your spot, with no grenade
When I step in each booth, I let ‘em see proof
Eat you sweet n*ggas up, I got a sweet tooth
But to teach is a must, I gotta reach youth
So I seek to discuss philosophy and truth
Broccoli and beef booth, you just a weak fluke
Reach in my Gino Green goose, let the thing loose
Cops chase me in the building, they never seen Juice
Run to the top floor, jump across each booth
You don’t think it’s street duke, you can’t beat ‘Poose
Nicer than five soloists, ten duos, and three groups
They better regroup
Battery dead, need a boost
I’m deeper than deep cooch
When featuring um
Catch you on your peep stoop
Hit him with the heat oops
I eat him like sweet fruit
All on him like cheap suits
Bury him like deep roots
Then flee in the green coupe
Retreat when the heat shoot
Speeding up, case in the truth
To keep it 100, all I need is one mic
You only live once, God gave you one life
I caught one felony, committed one crime
I was on First Street, ducking from the one-time
It’s only one life, one king, one Son
One love, love’s gonna get you, KRS-One
Had to run from two cops for two blocks, it’s too hot
Hand on my .22 listening to 2Pac
I’m now a two-time felon, too thorough, two llamas
Had to quit my ex-girl 'cause she was a two-timer
Two in your lower body, two in your upper
One time a lollipop, two times a sucker
Bust three checks, they gon' clear in three days
You was talkin' 'bout me, you ain't know they let me listen on the threeway
He had a three-pound when he caught his third strike
He a three-time loser, they gave him a 3-to-life
.44 magnum, 40-caliber handgun
Sippin a 40oz of beer, hand when you can’t come
Twin forty-cals on my waist, I’m a thug
I got two .40’s on me like the 40/40 club
5 boroughs of death, you don’t understand
Don’t give me a 5 if you ain’t my man
They takin shots at Remy Makaveli, I’m like wow
Five shots couldn’t drop her, she took it and smiled
A couple of my homeboys rep that 5
They throw it up, give you 5 on the black hand side
And my fam got a problem, I'ma ride
I’ll be there like Jackie, Tito, Jermaine, Marlon, Michael the Jackson 5
We could build on a 6-God
Six stands for equality, that’s if you swift God
Head crack you at the dice game, I rolled a six y’all
f*ck a 16, I can kill you in six bars
You sold your soul to the devil, so it’s hard to compete
You repping 6-6-6, that’s the mark of the beast
They say 7’s a lucky number
But we been suffering seven winters and six summers
In the sprinter with seven shooters to seven-seaters
n*ggas is snitching, they be singing like Sevyn Streeter
Caught him slippin' at the 7/11 they did him dirty
Tryna play me, I’m crazy baby 7:30
Last night I ate on the block, made 8 licks
Last customer who got on my nerves, got 86’d
Mess with me? Get your food ate, quote Papoose
Messing with me’ll get you eight like four times two
Travel with the .9 on my side since ‘99
Wide-eyed, these pus*ycats got nine lives
The greatest rapper died on March 9th son
I got 99 problems and a b*tch ain’t one
[Outro]
Ayy-yo Flex I’m gone…
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