Born Ready Freestyle lyrics

by

AR-AB


[Intro: Ar-Ab]
I was born ready. Top goon of Philly. Ar-ab (Born ready). I'm back! I was built for this sh*t (The king is back). King Ab, I run this sh*t. I'm built for this war sh*t (It's that OBH sh*t). I was born for this sh*t, it's that goonie gang sh*t. Shoutout Dark Lo, Lik Moss. Snookie!

[Freestyle: Ar-Ab]
AAAAAAH!
I'm from the city of the have nots
AK-47 is the mascot
I've seen my dreams come true in a glass pot
I pull up, black Glock, hit the jackpot
Was in class and had more than my teacher
f*ck a bad b*tch and then I catch amnesia
Razer and the plate I'm cutting coke like it's pizza
Slide through your block and let the Mac have a seizure
All black sneakers, nobody got 'em
I paid two stacks for the blood at the bottom
Pound of exotic, nobody got it
O.G Kush got hair like Rodman (Uuaah)
In school you played show-and-tell
Cops come, you got booked then played show-and-tell
(AAAH) When I die I probably go to hell
(AAAH) This dirty scale is my holy grail
(AAAH) The lean got me on my Diddy bop
(AAAH) I got the same watch Diddy got
(AAAH) I'm about to make the whole city hot
(AAAH) My trigger finger got the chickenpox
Ice in my soul, my heart full of anger
Pyrex bowl, popcorn with a hanger
Two car garage, I live like I'm famous
Two broads minaj and both of them strangers
Scars on my chest from the holes and the staples
I love to see a brick get broke on the table
Refrigerator full all syrup, no maple
Traphouse, one TV, no cable
They had a n*gga stuck eating soups in a cup
My cellmate's lying 'bout his coupes and his trucks
Kush in the dutch, the goose in the cup
There's a bean in the drum, he a fool if he duck
Rebel with a cause, measuring the soft
All states rapping, desi' in my draws
Heavy on flaws, bezzy on frost
If shorty don't swallow, I'm never gonn' call
Used to be a dog, had the code to your safe
And then he took the stand and he told in your face
You showed him your place and took him to your mom house
He went broke, then he broke in your mom house
I'm sitting at the top, feeling no pressure
I might buy a drop with the money in my dresser
Fresh box of 'Arm & Hammer' tryna' get the extras
And I ain't gotta talk, I let the Tec give a lecture (Aaaah)
I heard homie saying that he run the city
But he lying, cause I'm here and he don't run it with me
I heard his money on my head, tell him come and get me!
I been home three days and made a hunned-fifty!
I keep a big cannon, that do big damage
And I don't give a b*tch sh*t, but a di*k sandwich
I sent a text trough my phone and five bricks landed
About eight hours later five bricks vanished!
Was talking to a lifer on the top tier
Say he ain't look at a clock in five years
n*gga got twenty years in here but he ain't cry tears
He made his peace with god cause he gon' die there
Sippin' on brandy, cooking up candy
The way the coke perform, it should have won a grammy
b*tches couldn't stand me, now they're giving me their panties
You know the beef real when n*ggas shooting at your family

[Outro: Ar-Ab]
OBH n*gga. Top goon. King Ab. Goonie gang. These ain't f*ckin' with me man. This is my f*cking city, I run this sh*t

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #
Copyright © 2012 - 2021 BeeLyrics.Net