Funkmaster Flex Freestyle (September 2014) lyrics

by

Kidd Kidd


[Verse 1: Tony Yayo]
Yo, Sha Money help me get my first house
50 help me get my first Bent'
Money well spent
Now they don't talk, but it's all love though
Only spot Whoo Kid out in the club, so
I guess it's money, divide and conquer
Bought (?)'s first chain off spins in Hartford
Helped Montana and Max out with some lawyer money
Now he on Bad Boy
Congrats homie, get ya money
The rap game funny like that
Beat a homie up for Dre, and never got a Beat
Not the headphones, never got a beat
Co-sign Game, ate lunch on Interscope with Iovine
F loyalty, money intervene
A lot of homies dead, a lot of homies lock
Go see dread, 80 zones in the parking lot
Yeah, yeah, yeah
I said these rap cats is a dub
Me and Blue shootin like 'Bron 'Bron and Kevin Love
Sometimes I wish 50 and Floyd talk
Sometimes I wish Biggie and Pac talk
I wish Tyson never bit Evander ear
Broke times I wish that my ass wasn't here
I wish (?) go to Harvard
And (?) go to Yale
I wish I could free all my homies out the jail
Wish I could bring all my dead homies back
Wish I had that Lambo truck, Bentley truck all black
Keep wishin cause it ain't come out yet
I wish I had my face on a private jet
G5, doin sour D all the time
Turn the plane into Asian airlines
[Verse 2: Kidd Kidd]
Straight gangsta, this is G music
I put the G back in G-Unit
Shout out to 50, kept it 100 with me
Yeah he running with me, ain't no rapper f*cking with me
Only right that 50 Cent recruit me
Bulletproof truck, license plate saying "Shoot Me"
Stay on ya toes or get knocked off ya two feet
Run up on you and your, umm, in that two seat
You fresh to death so to speak
Get buried in ya fresh sneaks
He told me these rappers fresh meat
And I'm starving, mask on my face
Can't see nothing but my eyes like I'm Marvin the Martian
I don't know if you in a cartoon cause I ain't one
Red all over like I shot a paint gun
Getting read all about like you famous
Red on ya porch
Red on ya (?)
Ya girl walking in ya blood
Red on her Trues, Louboutin
Watch who you talking to, know who you speaking on
Any time could be when the time we keep them heaters on
Ain't no asking help
Every man for his self
Play the hand you was dealt, that's real n*gga
[Verse 3: Lloyd Banks]
Southside, check it, uh
Can't help but be a real n*gga, it ain't too many left
I keep everything 100, not a penny less
Married to the game, big up to every guest
Guess I got a cold heart, take that over a empty chest
Hey, it's a stick up, hit the ground, nobody move
Pretty b*tches come with me, curve the ugly b*tches smooth
When ya average you get chose
When ya not you get to choose
They know I'm a dog, f*cking like a rabbit on you boos
Fake n*ggas when you come through
I chop a couple down, gun fu
I'm Sun Tzu, it's like 3 of me when I'm on my 1,2
Titties out the window 'cause your V exquisite
She pretty and her body banging but a demon in it
Gucci, work with flippers off a key a visit
New rocks all day, I'm talking OD'in limit, uh
You see me talk it then you see me with it
Legendary flow, bury me in the museum with it
Every year I'm here, every day designer
11 years dumbing, we first place with Drama
I know you hear me rumbling
The V12 monster
Lady crusher, keep a hitlist in my locker, uh
Bad girls hate, so all the good ones I recruit
Every day I tie the knot, keep them b*tches out the loop
Two sisters, two doors, marry switchsmas out the coupe
Pour singles on any other, got them strippers by the boot
Eyeballs popping out a n*gga totally horny
Won't be a Banks after me, damn sure wasn't one before me
I'm gaudy, you seen greatness ever saw me
40K, bombs away, million bubbles for ya shorty, n*gga
Uh, I got 30,000 bubble habit
Bands like the festival, LV's on all the fabric, uh
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