The Hardest n*gga Out lyrics

by

Quelle Chris


[Sample]
Let me tell you this

[Sean Price]
P! Ha ha
Uhh, let's go

[Verse 1: Sean Price]
Yeah, P beat up the beat, bast*rd
Reach for my heat and sleep deep in the green pasture
Mean rapper, f*ck is you lookin' at?
f*ck a autograph n*gga, Ruck is a crooked cat
Uhh, look at that. Where you get them pants from?
Uhh, look at that. Where you get that dance from?
Pssh! I don't dance for n*ggas
I take trips, flip sh*t, and advance on n*ggas
This is anti-b*tch boy, whack n*ggas fall back
This is the verse that n*ggas could never call whack
The illest n*gga in Nebraska, I'm Method Man
Clown n*gga, yellow leather, weapon fam
Uhh, and I smoke a lot too
Coke on black shirts make polka dots, troop
Ha ha, y'all get it later
P-Body the great, but it get greater
f*ck wit' me!
[Verse 2: Sean Price]
Yo, listen
Uhh, slap when the sket blow
Bum-ass n*gga, no snaps on the petrol
I'm a Mastercard, pa, you just a Metro
Straight train fare, I'm not believin your chain-wear
Coke blow, nose glow, n*gga no reindeer
On my grind, sometimes I be rockin' (I be rockin')
Step to your home, big sket, weapon is chrome
No slot, "6 Minutes" Doug E. Fresh on the phone
Listen, gat be quick, gat be nimble
You strapped but you whack cause you sat wit'cha back to the window
I'm Chow Yun-fat rap, gat to your temple (Bong!)
Stay in your lane, lame, plain and simple (yes)
I dedicate this to the 85'ers
Wholeheartedly ham stage divin' Mercedes drivers
Whoo! I will pop you, black
The big head scientist writin', this that Yakub rap
See you in hell! P!
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