Breath (Freestyle) lyrics

Your boy sick
So move or the germ might touch ya
I'm at the rucker, burning them trees up like Usher
When I teach you how to rap fam
I'm in that black and
My ear-rings are Canaries the size of Pacman
Who gives a f*ck if you sour boy
Cuz my doors got the windows from the 24-Hour store
I'm on the verge of flippin
Lord send me a sign, before I empty this nine, and leave the boy drippin
Me and 50 like Michael and Pippin
Ryu or Ken, whoever you send, I'ma rip em'
I had to lead society, mainly wit my system
Run and put em' in the trunk, like a kidnapper victim
I pop up till there pushin me harder
My associates got interior motives like bush and his father
I figure, I rather play wit these lames before i pass
Build a ball-court, go buy Bentleys to go to crash
I'm headed towards my prime
Wit metaphors and lines
And I compliment my momma wit pedicures and wine
I'm line for line, the rap Einstein
Pound for pound
Tyson a.k.a Icing
Left it for the record
I ain't sleepin for a second
So even if im naked theres tool under the pillow
I'm ballin so the view of the pool is from the window
I'ma smoker, so believe were the n*ggas wit the Indo
An angels nightmare, freddy kruegar to a bimbo
A dead beat to ur daughter
I'll f*ck her and won't support her
I'm mashing on the pedal
Smile from ear to ear
Middle finger in the air
Hopin I catch her eye
Keep rydin behind your tints f*ck
n*ggas don't know no better
They'll rob you for the rhinestones in your pimp cup
They goin off what we say
n*ggas is runnin over my bars, faster than Jamaicans in a relay
I'm blowin the Kush, driving lazy in the lane
Yelling money ain't a thang
Like Jay-Z and Jermaine
And ill leave you on a chain
Like Brady wit the aim
I'm the same
Whether the Mercedes or the train
And I may be on a plane
By the end of the night
But it's aight
Tho, I might go
I'm rich off a Mic Hoe
My stamina's low
X-Rated is my type so
I keep the crib packed in, no telling where it might go
Living room, dining room, bedroom, bathroom
Upstairs, nuts smeared all over your Sasoon
Ya im on that fly sh*t
That Southside sh*t
That I'ma sit on at least ten million before i die sh*t
I'm from the block where the heafers be
To doing shows out in Kingston when they rocking where your peppers see
And being gangsta ain't enough
A lil' n*gga that's stuntin will put a killa in a box like Chucky
CHEAH!