Mike G - Brown Bag ('04FTA) Lyrics

Lyrics Brown Bag ('04FTA) - Mike G



I'm still a hazardous spitta,
I figure I'd rap to get richer
But after that I remembered,
Most artist ain't painting pictures
So when I started I knew that
They would thank me like November
Don't need a number one spot against you ranking contenders
And people say a lot of things but they never say what's real
How the fuck you talking about MC's on my heels
When they ain't got the same speed
We don't do the same things
Don't understand my words niggas like they can't read
Heard you're intimdated by people you can't be
And there's no coming to my level if your nose might bleed
So I got my shoes on, ain't no going slow
Shoot the other runners before they even say go, fuck 'em
Odd Future
Ayo, I'm classic like '96 posted on the corner
No chain on, shoot up them niggas because I wanna
Fuck it, you'll see, don't bring your kids around me
Worse than that 24th fucking letter times three
You're a lame, I'm saying I ain't even in your range
Six banks one day, hit the block then change
That's pretty much my only scheme to get rich
Cops come, answer the door like "i ain't did shit"
Fuck em all Mindstate kill em all attitude
Body didn't fit in the case like the other dude
There ya go
Make your heart beat at a faster pace
Go to shows looking for rappers to lacerate
You hear hollering and you just heard doom
Tell em dont fear me, fear the fuckin full moon
Collect body parts and try to reattach at the seams
Like get em boys
Get the wolves on your own team
Fuck em
Niggas don't know what to mother fuckin' do
When that bullet hits your mother fuckin' head, bitch
We be on the block
Servin' rocks
Shootin Glocks
With the mother fuckin' neighborhood gang, ho
Hey I'm Mike G bet they know my name on your block
It's funny I come around to watch everything stop
Red dots
Pointed at ya headlights
Figure these niggas left cause their shit wasn't dead right
OF Wolfgang, Number 1 asshole
Too many fuckin' bodies to worry about a death toll
All I know is Taco's filming porno in the hotel
Earl fucking got away
Hodgy's fuckin' duckin' jail
Vince is stashing murder weapons under the bottom bunk
And Tyler's riding around with a bitch in his trunk
Speakers loud and distorted
Stickin' forks into outlets
Didn't drop the body
Cause he left without the address
Had to call him up, ask why he wasn't there yet
Said he swagged it out, so he didn't use the MapQuest
Said he'd be surprised if he survived the night
Tell him dump the body in the first place you think is right
Like, they be on some raped sluts
Raise cups to the fact that you ain't wakin up
Take it how you want it, mother fucker get stuck
Bottom line is they are them



Writer(s): Michael Griffin, Sydney Bennett, Vince Staples


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