Correction Paroles Rum Nitty vs. Reed Dollaz par URLtv

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Paroles

This crunch time...
And we all know cuz dying
But this a legend standin' in front of me, so I was focused when I was cookin' up mine
You killed the freestyles for years, still went unsigned
That sh*t tragic
We all agree you can spit, damn it
But Reed (read) music? 'Bout as good as Nick Cannon's...in Drumline!
You gon' make me dump mine! Enough's enough!
'Cause you done came back to the battle scene...thinkin' you was one of us
It wasn't humble much
And motivated me to f**k you up
But you went and killed yourself first, family...and that's been why (Benoit) you shoulda hung it up!
f**k you want!?
You ain't as gangsta as you seem
I'll spin the block on you, dump a 'K clip at your team
I ain't tryna make this out a scene
The only request I got for Reed is die
Just...(Reader's Digest) take this magazine!
To keep it a bean, f**ked around and get yoked on footage!
The pole strapped!
No cap - I tote the fully!
If my money low, you know I'll book you
Told you, pu**y
For that little paper, I'm crackin' Reed (crack and read)
This sh*t a fortune cookie!
You not a rookie...but you not a starter no more on this team you steppin' in
It's evident - I done took it to a place you never been
This lame irrelevant
Philly stadium: we only linkin' (Lincoln) up to see me replace a Veteran
Let's BEGIN!
I'll make a move on you, pronto
The Glock clap, make you a op' pack
I'll put you on a Fronto
Keep a few filled wit' hollows, couple guns wit' me
F one .50 (F-150) - I got two silver autos (Silverados)!
Get popped on!
The .9'll buck!
Back up, Dollaz!
I'll leave, come back for Dollaz
Line this up, right (write) on the back of Dollaz (dollars): now it's "In God We Trust"
Run up, my savages dumb out
This is not a act, I'll let it clap and then run route
I'm packin' a gun now
'Cause every time I try to put my past (pass) behind me, the ladder'll (lateral) come out
Run down!
If you get to actin' nervous, then pop him
Three rounds, you gon' need a vest under that jersey to stop 'em
You really thought you was gon' come murder me, partna?
You gon' get hurt
Put a knife in his liver and turn (intern) - this sh*t ain't workin' for Dollaz (dollars)
Pop him, the tool hit you
Lift the 'K
I'll give a n***a from outta Philly eight (affiliate)
Oh, you thought I was cool wit' you?
Through wit' you
You can't keep it real yourself...
...Go

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