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lil jay - competition lyrics
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tookaville, i rep the sh-t
sneak dissing meet the ex of it
say f-ck tooka you meet the clip
yo mans die, you still ain’t on sh-t
respect, yeah i earned the sh-t
disease gun leave you burning sh-t
burn n-ggas like i burn blank discs
king lil jay for president
n-gga dissing on me, that’s death row
and you know i keep the strap like velcro
no taco bell, but i keep the sh-lls though
jmoney got called on death row
you a singer, or a rapper
i’m a real n-gga, i’ll clap ya
catch lil durk, put him in the dirt
feed the boys clip, and my mans said he a actor
me i got shot
but you know that ain’t stop
me from getting this guap
any send ebt every sending shots
do a hit on 064, now the block hot
free wee wee c, balla 50 shot
.223, it’ll make a n-gga diddy bop
team no lacking so you know i gotta keep a shot
do a hit up in traffic
stretch a n-gga out like elastic
make ya guys disappear like magic
get money, k!ll a opp, that’s a p-ssion
you a lame n-gga, you ain’t wit it
you paranoid, just admit it
r.i.p. to my compet-tion
i’m taking over my city
n-ggas mad cause they know it’s my time
like madden so i can’t get signed
put money on my head, they tryin
so hard but i’m still on my grind
n-gga said my name for no reason
my flow hard like cement
it’s a cold world, n-gga you anemic
you gdk, but ya daddy was a region
these for the n-ggas that don’t know
i be throwing bullets, tony romo
pull up in a 4 door with a 4-0
make ya body go up and down like a yo-yo
if he one, to the game i don’t see
any n-gga in the streets that’s hot as me
got a deal now, so you getting money
i remember them days when you was bummy
dirty n-gga, skinny pants, and mohawk
semi auto with a stove, take ya nose off
sipping act til a young n-gga doze off
all you n-ggas catching bullets like randy moss
got my choppa in the car like rick ross
i’ll crucify a n-gga, nail him to the cross
i don’t see the compet-tion, eyes on the boss
hollow tips make ya jump like kriss-kross
these n-ggas got me f-cked up, why the wasting my time
say they gone k!ll me, say they in the streets, i swear to god they lying
when i see em, them n-ggas dying, it’s get rich or die trying
thirty shots all in my nine, shoot numbanine bout nine times
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