Correction Lyrics Huntin’ Season by Lloyd Banks

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Lyrics

Quarantine is cool I had plans to stay in my bag this summer
Things I gotta prove again .30 caliber magnum hunter
Chip heavy as ever, another challenge I'm back in front of
n***as get in their feelings and burn they bridge, I'm the acid under
My jersey's a classic number, might be one of significance
Ask ya mother, ratchet wonder, never had a rappin' blunder
Came a long way from that couch with the plastic cover
It's hunting season, Corona mask and the accurate drummer
Your favorites are shook I've been poking at them this whole time
I get in my zone again sh*t'd be changin' rapidly
They thought I was dead I raised out the ground of a gold mine
But I sympathize for anyone that should come after me
Call who you wanna, 10 out of 10 Imma drag em all
20/20 with .30-30 rapper heads on cabin walls
Drop the rest off at Niagara Falls
I've been active the last two decade, smashing flaws
Bloody shoes and matching floors, I gotta history of buzzer-beaters
Killers get invitations to my game night, human bones for the puzzle pieces
New York is on my back, auto mack with the muzzle features
I'm gon' need all my plaques bubble wrapped in the double sequence
I'll catch you eventually, hard to shake all the scramblers off
Casualties in my camera roll, customize all my camouflage
Rambo ammo loaded belt buckles, fumble ya plans, you lost
Prepare your candles, troll I’ll spell trouble, chuck all ya damage off
Should have never been crossin' me, lay em out perpendicular
Celebrate for the parish, and party on the peninsula
Making this book a masterpiece, 20 chapters convincing ya
So sinister, 40 new bars sharp as ya minister
Remington pump or Cali, say my name in any room
It’ll echo like Teddy Riley
I’ve been punching by the twos, and they hittin' hard as Vitali
Bring the loudest Imma sleep em, another victim to carry
Get politicians from 'round me, n***a way before the camera clicks
Made my way through the amateurs, studied learned all advantages, top fiver, unanimous
Ugh, my flows a hammer fist, "Ooh" and "awwing" the panelist
Crews lying in bandages, too high off the cannabis
Fire will make em all fiend, punctured lung, or a jaw break
Competition ain't winning sh*t, we advising to all tank
Leave a bomb on ya porch fate, Vietnam with the war paint
Be accomplished, it's more hate, re-up boxing in storm gates

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