Screwed Up Click

Screwed Up Click - Breathe lyrics

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(feat. H.A.W.K., Mike D, Grace)



[talking]

Take Over, the album coming this summer baby

2005 get ready for it baby, they said it wouldn't ever happen

It's going down right now, young gun Po-Yo, Lil' O

Mike D, 3-2, breathe-breathe-breathe (just blaze)



[H.A.W.K.]

I breathe with ease, just like I throw them B's

Puff on trees, like Fat Rat I chase the cheese

I'm in the matrix, like Keanu Reeves

Equipped with thieves, and G's with college degrees

Please believe, our franchise better than Steve's

We push V's, with tops down feeling the breeze

Your main squeeze, is on these N-U-T's

On her knees, and she's aiming to please

Cause I'm riding in a Coupe, the color of mustard

Inside custard, one deep ain't no room for busters

Inhale exhale, and spit flawless raps

And I'm gon give these boys hell, till my lungs collapse

And if you ashmatic, don't start no static

I be hanging erratic, the situation could get tragic

So take heed, or motherfuckers bound to bleed

With your homeboy yelling, my nigga please



[talking]

Y'all niggaz better breathe, y'all niggaz better breathe

Y'all niggaz better breathe, Say Den check game my nigga



[Mike D]

Your boy right back home, y'all been missing the real

Corleon gon give it to ya, get ya crunk like a X pill

This for the real, don't let them fakes sing along

It's the Boss Don-Dadda, Michael Corleone

Pimp out this, not a simp out this

Get my gangsta strut on, when I limp like this

I'm certified, mafia strings laced up

Keep a bad game face down, while I wake's up

Y'all cats face up, I'm back in the do'

Harder than ever, cause hard times make a real nigga grow

I done seen in triple X's, making hope niggaz fold

The fake gon be fake, and the real gon roll on

I don't know no other way, for this Hogg named Corleone

I ain't had a damn thang, probably all my life

Shit I struggled, but that's my life

Yeah you better check it nigga, that's my life



[talking]

Corleone, CMB-S.U.C. (hold up)

(you know, you-you-you know, what)



[Grace]

Game runner after cash, execute and put it down

Rhyme ripper syrup sipper, Screwed Up in H-Town

You know my name and my game, how I do what it do

Legendary Dub maker, got the game from Screw

Pimp pens and bust guns, transact with coupons

Dues paid and stripes earned, my nigga the blue Don

Get it right go all night, I'm a true block bleeder

Dat Boy Grace from the Fare, certified with the heater

Pick a point you phony buster, bad decision paper stacking

Keep it cracking steady macking, transacting and bad ac'ing

Hoover Groover that'll do ya, make the Ruger run through ya

Catch a rat in my cheese, watch them hollows pursue ya

I got it all on my mind, paid the cost to shine

S.U.C. day one nigga, it's a constant grind

I hit the booth and breathe, kill a track with ease

L.O.S., Den and Grace true Southwest G's
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Language: English

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