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d-con - line 'em up lyrics
[d-con]
line ’em up, line ’em up, put ’em in a line dude
i’m sick of these pigs like the motherf-ckin’ swine flu
we sick of bein’ lied to, need i remind you?
half you rappers claim hoods you wouldn’t even drive through
i’ve got the sickest mind since odb
i came to put the game in order, ocd
haha, if you could only see
like a grand of fake cash, ya’ll some phony g’s
we can throw hands like a poker game
i’ll squeeze your f-ckin’ throat till your vocals change
f-ck the ones who hate on my huge checks dude
and to my dyslexic haters, u-f too
your whole styles played out like a fiddle, f-ggot
like a small poster, i’m a little graphic
if you ever gripe that you don’t like my track
thats like comin’ up to debo and askin’ for your bike back
in the mall the other day with a new girl, splurgin’
she say my flow tighter than the p-ssy of a virgin
she’s lookin for a sugardaddy, askin’ where the price at
b-tch! do i look like i look at the pricetag?
stacks on the whip, boy i’m sittin on chrome
plus my pockets look like a senior citizen home
smoke trails follow me like i’m the head of a cult
we rip the bong like the shirt of the incredible hulk
got bic lighters on deck if you ever lack one
pushin’ obese people down hills, roll me a fat one
high till we die, snoop is knowin’ what i mean
my eyes are the only thing droopin’ lower than my jeans
haters talk tough, but you better listen cowards
step to me you’ll get dropped like soap in prison showers
so all that rappin’ you do about your hollows, bury it
i’m bringin’ more heat than apollo’s chariot
groupies chasin me like they out runnin’ laps
these b-tches pull a brett favre, they keep comin’ back
i was broke as f-ck and they’d barely get love then
but now i run the underground like harriet tubman
so f-ck p-ssin’ the torch, i’m keepin’ it like a secret
my words like nostradamus so you better believe it
i wasn’t feelin ya’ll like a parapalegic
thought this rap sh-t would never work out like an obese kid
these b-tches talkin serious, baby we can cut it up
but talkin long term its like a hurricane, shut her up
wants me to c-m inside her like the trojan horse
but you won’t breed my seed because i wear my trojan, wh0r-s
like usain bolt, i’m on the track
can’t sleep on my sk!ll, insomniac
i’m just rappin’ anything, i don’t need a theme
you know your lifes good when it’s better than your dreams
sick of these snakes like i’m sam jackson
‘cept nothin’ i say is ever plain and i can’t stand actin’
phony -ss rappers, lyin’ through speakers
but me i run the map like it’s tied to my sneakers
so to those clamin’ the streets in your wack rap circles
but shots’ll make you duck like an aflac commercial
but me i’m lettin’ off the entire clip
cause i’m out for more blood than a vampire crip
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