Correction Lyrics High Explosive by DJ Muggs

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Lyrics

Get f**king smoked
Smoked n***a

Ayo
It's the high explosive (Uhu)
fry ya mom with a dosage
If I go they nose drip, fold and dopesick
Yo forever popo can blow d**k (f**k ’em)
I squeeze the can' to Uncle Sam, [?], on some free smoke sh*t
My lifestyle wild illegal slash slightly woke
With a splash of punch you in ya mouth fast, like a Floyd jab (Uhu, yeah)
Ya arms too short to box, b
I only like her if she pretty, hot, thick and knock knee
Freak like Roxy
Seen who dreams die from gang bangin and oxy's
Envious eye idiots with palms on they pistol grips
If you lit, it’s smart for you to act like you ain't got sh*t (Stay low)
Play it lowkey like Fritz and reap the benefits
These n***as, they be bootlegs, don't keep it 10 Benjamins (Frauds)
They love you more, when your body boxed and [?]
Earn ya spot, this ain't fall out the sky like a rain drop (Nah)
Been through it, highs and lows, college and cocaine spots
These n***as copyin, tryna do the sh*t that I be on
They just some low frequency fool fraudulent maricons
Word to mommy, me and Muggs cooked the bomb to body y'all (Body y'all n***as)
Kamikaze how I popped it off, this the hottest sauce
n***as talkin like they poppin, not at all (Nah)
You cut from a novice cloth
I pop and slide off and scream "mazel tov" (Ha ha)
Congratulations, [?] (Brap)
I'm him, Iceberg Slim with a splash of Jason
I'm the illest, none of you fags adjacent (None of y’all)
Nah, not even close, I got it all like Inspector Gadget coat
Rap and trap, move the music like a bag of coke
Fiend the world the f**k out for the cash we gross, n***a (f**k outta here)

Stylistic, for the money pile I had to risk it (Had to risk it)
Even in the darkest times remain optimistic
Stayed on my grind, knew that I would pop with this sh*t (Knew it)
Saw the signs and read the writings on the wall like hieroglyphics

Somewhere inbetween a record contract and a Rikers cop
My mind is like a firle, knock the ragu out a writers block
Exercise the right to do what I do if it’s right or not
To eat food and put rice in a pot, I had to do a lot (Had to do a lot)
Got no love for snakes I'm deeply rooted in a righteous plot
Still a breakdown [?] (Soul assassins)
Full metal jacket, I practice quick, take apart the Glock
On point like a archer shot
That’s why we disregard the garbage that you other artists drop
It ain't hard as this
Hear the jargon that I put on disk and you know God exist
I'm Bruce Leroy whippin Sho-Nuff fast with the charged fist
f**k the game up, can't fix this blowin in the cartridge (Nah)
For digits n***as flip quick, put something in ya cartilage (Brr)
Heavy smoke like six sigars lit
When I draw it’s arson
Honest

[Outro]

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