CORRIGER LES PAROLES

Paroles : Joe vs. Born

Yo, y’hear me? We good? We good?
Richmond, what up? We good!?
I said, leading up to this battle, you had a lot to say
b*t*h, you ‘bout to die today!
Play wit’ me, a Glock’ll spray
I’ll put a grip to the back of NuBorn (newborn) head like I’m holdin’ a baby the proper way!
You’ll get drug ‘til you see the light
I gave him a ounce of hope
Double-barrel, so the (soda) pop comin’ out clear like the fountain broke
Dome shot!
I ice cats, just to sum it (summit) up like a mountain slope
Oh, the vet get a shot?
Well, dog gotta flee (flea) if I pull somethin’ out the coat
I’m ‘bout to smoke
I was on the bus with somethin’ tucked, thе large heater
A f**kin’ Bulldog, on thе Greyhound: I’m a dog breeder
Now I’ll admit you can spit, but you arrogant, thinkin’ you a lot better
So for that, it’s good riddance (writtens) to a primadonna (Madonna) like a Pac letter
The Glock stretch him
Lonzo: he felt the pops’ pressure
A shot soared (sword) across his chest like Brock Lesnar!
Brand-new Desert Eagle, out the box
I picked it up right away so it’s not confusin’
And took the plastic off the bird nose: I’m tryna stop pollution
Or I can pick up the old pistol, shot through the vertebrae
Up wit’ the murder rate
No bullsh*t, this Jordan on the Wizards: you gotta deal wit’ the rusty .38
Which reminds me, you lost your Shine, and your hype, man: you got Rex’s vision
I’m the next to kill him
A chopper come out the back, give him extra wisdom
Or I can make him a special victim, wit’ a long blade
From across the room spear it (spirit) through the body like an exorcism!
I know your kind, you chase all these big-name battles just tryna get notarized
Ain’t you face, like, half of Writer’s Bloque?
Yeah, then it was chokin’ time
They left you immobilized
You get the point? When you go against the Bloque (block), you ‘posed to rise (posterize)
Dopest Minds, we punch on the way to the punch
I don’t got filler
I’m a setup GOAT...like Pac’s killer
f**k you and who rock wit’ ya
I’ll prove you’re not killas
You’ll see blood runnin’ down chins like Godzilla
But he beatin’ me? I’m not impressed
He’ll be scared of what’s in the shotgun like a driver’s test
Or put two .5s in the air: “I confess!”
Annabelle: if this little b*t*h toy wit’ me, he’ll die from what I possess
I’m the best
Get rocked wit’ fists!
Ironic if I steal on you, I’ll (k)not your sh*t
Wait, let me guess, he came with some race angles - stop it, b*t*h
I’m white and bear arms: we polar opposites
All them long tales (tails) ‘bout you dumpin’? Croc(k) of sh*t!
I’ll let a bullet zoom into your face like I cropped the pic
Mini Wesson tucked, the handle taped like a hockey stick
I’mma pop...and raise this black baby like I adopted it!
I’ll make your chest (Chess) open up wit’ a round like, “We still Cakin’ the f**k up”
A whole team links wit’ the stick, like we makin’ a nunchuck
Makin’ the gun bust
Tempur-Pedic mattress: if we get it jumpin’ on this side, you ain’t wakin’ the f**k up!
The f**k’s up!?
The chop’ loaded
That’s a auto tuned (AutoTune) wit’ 16s like a Future verse
Walk up, I’ll (aisle) pop up wit’ the blazer like a suit in church
A few disperse
Reach for yours, we shootin’ first
So move a muscle, we start clappin’: Mr. Universe!
These rappers love talkin’ ‘bout their silencers
I’d rather let the sh*t go “BOW!”
The gun made a ultra sound (ultrasound): I bet NuBorn (newborn) get the picture now!
STOP PLAYIN’ WIT’ ME, dawg!
Let’s go!
STOP PLAYIN’ WIT’ ME, dawg!
BOW! A body shot’ll have this lil’ b*t*h delirious!
The bullet hit Born dead in the stomach like a miscarraige
I’m the sickest, period
Dopest Minds, man