7L & Esoteric

7L & Esoteric - Warning - Knife In The Face songtekst

Je score:

  

 





[Esoteric talking]

You motherfuckers

This is some murderous shit right here

It's the E-S, 7L on the track

Potent somethin' through ya bean hat

Don't try to pigeon hold me baby

You know the deal

About to black out on these motherfuckers

It's like this, hey yo


[Verse 1]

We don't pussy foot around shit, we beat down shit

We ain't the cats that you wanna fuck around with

Straight up, like a jump off

you make my skin crawl like a snake

I hold my weight like Triple H, the cerebral assassin

I beat you, defeat you wid the passion

Cash and girls are what motivates me

A small rapper like yaself is needin' safety

I don't claim to be a thug

But that would mean a slug

For any faggo that's givin' or receivin' love

I keep a glove in my right hand

So when I murder wid the mic

they won't trace it when they pull it out ya diaphram

You're in the fryin' pan

I'm a violent man watchin' silence of the lambs

Ready to go out, and stab the jaws off ya mouth

I'm not the one to dis

I'm fearless like Parker than the deer hunter is

No doubt


[Hook]

You thug it out, cut it out

You fuck around we gon' slug it out, club it out

You playin' games we gon' shut you out

So now you know what we about

Pimp slap a thug beyond the shadow of a doubt


[Talking]

Y'all motherfuckers is actin' real fake right

Ya man's land ain't even that man

You ain't livin' that life

You ain't ready for that man, fall back


[Verse 2]

Bitch ass rapper, fake act clapper

Can't fuck around with the underground jaw tapper

Raw rapper, rugged like a Landrover

Handover the mic ya plan's over tonight

Ain't nobody flowin' as tight in y'all click

I'm to sick, to eat a dick

Ya can't get wid the words that I spit

I rip, can't stand none of this fake shit

This side of stupid weak shit, you a baby, go back to Old Navy

Yo I shop Newbury, now you walk new bury

While I'm spendin' cash on Fifth Ave you get tabbed, not a clue

Or the slightest inklin' of who you talkin' to

I slaughter you, my crew hit's you on the face off

First of all shake the hate off

Claimin' that you paid when it's my plates you ate off

The truth is you can't afford to take a day off

You stay soft like my purple label face cloth

My dick you need to stay off

If punch lines were punch clocks you'd be laid off


[Hook x2]
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Taal: Engels

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