Block Music lyrics

by

OJ da Juiceman


[Verse 1: Twista]
I'm sick and tired of the pus*y sh*t
Hoe-ass n*ggas I hear rappin, they must be pus*y-whipped
What happened to that Beanie Sigel fully sh*t?
No more sweet-talkin, I wanna hear about the fully clip
What they bust from a pistol grippin through suckin a tissue
But they ain't crushin a sickle, don't you be trustin 'em wit'chu
Homie f*ck what's the issue, they will go nuts when I diss you
Crazy for once in my nickels so bring a customer wit'chu
Hit him with the back of the pistol and knock him unconscious
My rappin'll get you, I'm snappin, I'm a monster and I'm as
Psycho as they get, I'm the sh*t, don't get hit with the burners
I'm heartless, I'm dark as [?] is the difference for murder
Plenty riches I earn as the best and the bosses know it
So much paper in the room I'm becomin claustrophobic
Get my message out to the thugs as if I talked to Moses
Score on these n*ggas every time I see Moss is open...

[Chorus: Liffy Stokes]
Yeah, this for my n*ggas on the grind (on the grind)
When n*ggas out there on the deck that's doin' time (doin' time)
c*ck mine, [?] as hell, ready to use it
'Cause they're broke, startin' the gang-bang music
Block music (block music)
This the sh*t that you play when you get into it
Block music (block music) block music (block music)
Bust your sh*t off n*gga while I lose it
To this block music (block music) block music (block music)
[Verse 2: Skooda Chose]
K-Town Westside n*gga, that's where the hood at
Gang-bang straight block music, that's what I'm good at
As soon as Skood' snap with a track
I burn it down this mantle to wax
It's textbook, example of crack
It's a gangsta party, weed chasers, a block, three haters
b*tch fast cars, a hand of gorillas, speed racer
No NASCAR for that green paper
I blast the Glocks to your team later
Don't ask why I holla back, scrap Holocaust, n*gga I'm a boss
Cause that dead man pick-up flow, try me come across
I catch you late night, Johnny Carson - y'all n*ggas probably vomit
I live life Sinatra in Vegas, Armani garments
Mob cars, makin moves or make some odd cars[?]
Run to your little hotel room discharge five
But n*ggas pop with they ribs turnin
Just like on the block like they crib burnin
I do it for y'all...

[Chorus: Liffy Stokes]
Yeah, this for my n*ggas on the grind (on the grind)
When n*ggas out there on the deck that's doin' time (doin' time)
c*ck mine, [?] as hell, ready to use it
'Cause they're broke, startin' the gang-bang music
Block music (block music)
This the sh*t that you play when you get into it
Block music (block music) block music (block music)
Bust your sh*t off n*gga while I lose it
To this block music (block music) block music (block music)
[Verse 3: B-Hype]
Yeah, I put you n*ggas in a cemetery
And I'm delusional, don't know how many men I bury
I got a nina, now you know that b*tch I gotta carry
But I'ma box you n*ggas, sh*t I ain't never scary
Don't get it twisted my n*gga, don't let the size fool ya
A swift kick up yo' ass is what I'd do to ya
B-Hype a menace, I'll finish you with no evidence
Gettin caught up in that bullsh*t is irrelevant
I'm too grown for my stakes, and these b*tches I break
Cause I'm a f*ckin snake, f*ck you n*gga go and hate
sh*t I'm a time bomb, that's why I stay armed
And I smoke that backwood to keep my nerves calm
Look for my right arm, it's bringin much heat
And I'm a certified gangsta n*gga in the streets
I'm a monster elite, I got them hood figures
And I'm comin real wit it, it's for the block n*gga!
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