Jill Scott (PS2 Freestyle) lyrics

[Intro]
Yuh, real Rx
Yuh
Real Rx

[Verse]
Walk in this b*tch like Lil B
On the perc pill and a lil E
I slid in this b*tch like a Martian
This a Audi, I'm not walkin'
When Pap talkin', stop talkin'
I was in the box with Bob Barker
I will backslap a n*gga mama
pus*y n*ggas prayin' to see me under
Glock look like OKC Thunder
b*tch say I'm sexier than Ted Bundy
I walk in the trap and I get it jumpin'
Gucci sneakers n*ggas walkin' in Jumanji
Buscemi boots need a key
Auntie finna get her ass DDT
I walk in this b*tch like Lord of the Rings
This sh*t'll get uglier than Booker T
I walk in this b*tch like Mr. Walk-in-this-b*tch
They tryna walk in how I walked in this b*tch
This beat crazy, I'm walkin' this b*tch
Back to back, I'm talkin' my sh*t
They said, "Papa, why the f*ck you always spazzin'?"
Drac got a hit stick like John Madden
My chains havin' a Verzuz battle
I walked in like Tony Soprano
Diamonds hittin' likе a noisy channel
b*tch it's Chanel, why you call it channel?
Papi too hot for you to handlе
I hit the pot and get dismantled
Ain't no power on in the trap
Auntie in this b*tch lightin' candles
f*ckin' hoes like Future in your Gucci slides
'Til you get shot out your Gucci sandals
I walked in like "Sway, you ain't got the answers"
Glock make a n*gga put his hands up
I walked in like the real Kanye
This wock, this not Bombay
I hate b*tches that move like Ciara
That gotta be the dumbest b*tch in America
You know damn well that's not that boy dad
I wouldn't be mad if Future beat yo ass
Don't play games with a n*gga kid
n*gga f*ck around, pop up where you live
They wanna be JT and Yung Miami
All these hoes think they City Girls
5.56, go through fifty girls
I'm in the trap with plenty girls
I will serve a boy or any girl
These n*ggas livin' in fantasy world
My b*tch suck di*k better than Jill Scott
I don't know what the f*ck wrong with Jill Scott
These city girls is some real thots
I don't beef on it now, I got real opps
Blue tints and a stick kill cops
They like, "When the f*ck he gon' stop?"
I walk in this b*tch like my pops
Beat the f*ck out you and the pot
Where I'm from, X marks the spot
On his forehead, put a f*ckin' dot
They held it but never saw the shots
I'm like Kobe tryna beat the clock
I look down and check my watch
It's 8:23 on the dot
b*tch n*gga better give me my props
They always say white men can't jump
Well, where I'm from the white guy hops
Beat the bowl like Bernard Hopkins
I sold drugs 'cause I ain't have a option
Up the stick, I ain't finna box you
I beat the sh*t out of you if I box you
Strip a n*gga down to his boxers
Why this b*tch in the cold watchin'?
She better be happy we don't rob her
I'll take that b*tch purse 'cause it's Prada
Give it to my b*tch, act like I bought it
They say, "Damn, Papi, you bold"
They say, "Damn, Papi, you cold"
In the kitchen makin' love to the stove
I love that b*tch more than she'll ever know
That b*tch keep me in Girbaud
Damn, my body covered in gold
Other than the Glock, I don't trust a soul
I drag a razor 'cross your throat
Use the same razor to cut dope
Smoke a blunt and act like nothin' wrong
I don't know why the f*ck they wanna play wit me
By the way, this a PlayStation beat
I walk in this b*tch like H&D
Up the Glock, take you off your feet
Lie, cheat, and steal like Eddie G
Knock you the f*ck out like Eddie G
Pull up in the foreign like Eddie G
Drunker than a b*tch, I'm Eddie G
In a hotel suite like I'm Eddie G
These n*ggas move like Rikishi
They wanna see me dead like Eddie G
Long live my n*gga Eddie G