Lyrics Ready to Score - Debs

I admit that I've been lost
But I've been found
Have you been around?
How you go about goin' around town?
You got the girls
You got the bottles
You in check?
What's next?
Making it out the bullshit and the drama

Watch your words, they come around quick like karma
I'm so sick on darma
Plowin' through these fields
Homie I'm ahh farmer
Prayin' on my knees but I ain't no martyr
Went to the same high school as Jeffrey dahmer
Like to think that I'm ah young Lebanese scholar
Rap game more than blue collar
I'm shootin', I'm shootin'
Homie I'm a starter
I'll be polite with your daughter
Young man that will be a dollar
Foe that arnold n palmer
Ain't not free in' this world
Ain't not free in' this world
Money ain't growin' on trees in this world
Life's just a bunch of fees in this world
But thats why you gotta go fish
Gettin' the fix for this dish
Chef in the kitchen, my cookin' so rich
Chef in the kitchen, I'm gettin' to this
Girls easier then a flip of switch
I'm fixing my pitch, got this rap game in a hitch
Wooah I won't miss
Slicin' like swiss
Baby come give me a kiss
I've had all the anti-venom of these snake
Anti-dote forever flowin' in my viens
Makin' me immortal to these fakes, fa-a-kes
Diamond in the rough
This rap game is pretty tough
Play the right cards homie better not bluff
Come in the paint with that weak end up stuffed
I've had enough, I've had enough
I ain't in no rut
Manny with the upper hit yah in the gut
You a mix you a mutt
I ain't messin' with you, no no
I ain't messin' with you

Pass me the rock I'm ready to score
Fakes never make it pass the doors
Do it for yourself
Do it for yourself
Do it do it
Do it for yourself
Pass me the rock I'm ready to score
Fakes never make it pass the doors
Fakes never make it pass the doors
Fakes never make it pass the doors

They say that I'm actin' cocky
Don't care what they say
I hit them like wacky
Horse power rippin' like a jockey
Slap shot like I'm wayne
Why you slippin' we ain't playin' hockey
I'm spreadin' my wings so I fly with the birds
Some acts of concern but I just go with it
Steps with my Pep
She asking for my number, SI
Tell her go head call me papi
No espanol if it ain't sloppy
Why you gotta copy I'm fly like the bats be
Everywhere I wanna be but I have no time you see
I'm just throwing passes
Why you sittin' there askin' madden
It's aladin flying carpet
'Cause me and jasmine high as shit man you can't imagine
I'm ready to soar...
Ya, Oo-o-oo
I'm workin' on this
Oo-o-oo
I'm workin' on this
I'm workin', I'm workin', I'm workin' on this...

What the hell happen to this
What the hell happen to this
Had to come down to this shit
Had to come down to this shit...
Had to come down to it

Pass me the rock I'm ready to score
Fakes never make it pass the doors
Do it for yourself
Do it for yourself
Do it do it
Do it for yourself
Pass me the rock I'm ready to score
Fakes never make it pass the doors
Fakes never make it pass the doors
Fakes never make it pass the doors