The Shakedown lyrics

by

Evidence


[Intro]
That's real real, I love that
("It's my thing")
("Hey")

[Chorus]
I could give a f*ck who honey kissin'
Money missin' makes me turn to Sonny Liston
Mercenary on a mission, enter intuition
Conditioned, for all the bullsh*t you're dishin'

[Verse 1]
I'm about as hard as the times
I make mines off rhymes and keep dimes to blow in the wind chimes
A Hieroller, you die young, I die older
Cy Young holder for throwing this heat
The air brung my tongue is shellac'n the blood of the wack
It sharpens when I cut up the track, it darkens
My crew is recon, who is he, Jon?
All in your b*tch Louis Vuitton for doin' me wrong
Pursuin' me to put two in me?
Won't happen like crowds booin' me, MC fabulous
Just bust for a century mo'
With ammo and dough in my peripheral, here we go
You in analog, digital, 8-track cassette deck
Or on your little karaoke stereo
You get hands put on you
And DM my plans to all provide two or three hot ones in ya potnas
Huey P., Harriett Tub', carry the weapon
But y'all n*ggas scary as f*ck and
I'm luck up, tucked up, in the Bay Area cuts, like what...
[Chorus]
("It's my thing")
Ay, I could give a f*ck who honey kissin'
Money missin' makes me turn to Sonny Liston
Mercenary on a mission, enter intuition
Conditioned, for all the bullsh*t you're dishin'
I could give a f*ck who honey kissin' ("Hey")
Money missin' makes me turn to Sonny Liston
Mercenary on a mission, enter intuition
Conditioned, for all the bullsh*t you're dishin'

[Verse 2]
My rap attracts and re-enacts the facts
That's just part of the art of the rhyme tactics
Get checked over the ice, I hit hat tricks
Hit 'em in the right spot in they head and they hit back...flips
My rap give orbits to atlas
And balance with the stakes that shakes the rattlers
Trees in a chalice, seeds in nursery school
And I'm still a father figure to all you n*ggas
Who test the finesse of the fest or rest collective
Poetics, poppin' from the proper perspective
What's your mission? Boy, listen
Do too much more dissin', you're meetin' the mortician
Stepped on and trampled for tryin' to gamble
I'm a prime example of a rhyming cannibal
Razor sharp dart, beams, and lasers
Aimed at your neck, to break off the ice glaciers
I use reflectors on your motion detectors
Stealthy, trained and wealthy
Gamed and ready to take names, check Zodiac
I'm like Shaq, when I'm rockin' the mic, don't react
[Chorus]
("It's my thing")
I could give a f*ck who honey kissin' ("Hey")
Look, money missin' makes me turn to Sonny Liston
Mercenary on a mission, enter intuition
Conditioned, for all the bullsh*t you're dishin'
I could give a f*ck who honey kissin' ("Hey")
Money missin' makes me turn to Sonny Liston
Mercenary on a mission, enter intuition
Conditioned, for all the bullsh*t you're dishin'

[Outro]
I could give a f*ck, haha
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