"New Orleans Magic"
This is the archetypal rock sound
Okay this really ain't no rock shit but um, hmh ahh let go
Hollygrove monsta, New Orleans maniac, shoot a nigga up until his whole body ain't attached
Hi, my name is best rapper alive
And your mouth is the best crapper alive
Cause you talk shit I get hit and walk it off like fuck dat
Then I just spit like barkin' dogs call it buzz back
Attitude like fuck 'em all
And I'm greasy and your boyfriend is a butterball
Was geezy, I mean what's good bitch is you blind
Check my watch bet it be money all the time
Sunny on the side where I stay at
Where M.I.A. at, I get pussy everytime I say dat
In the game room I don't play dat
Bitch nigga get laid down where he lay at
AK at ya front door, Young Zoe,
You can ask Brisco shoot 'til my wrist sore
Coupe with a bitch low
Who but you slick po'
I'm tired of the south so ya mouth where the dick go
O.k., they like when I say dat huh?
And your boyfriend's a tampon
And I don't own land baby I own a land mine
So step on my land and catch a bomb like Anne Klein
Weezy F. ans the F is for franchise
You lookin' at me is like you lookin' through ant eyes
Young money can't die, bitch we like Hancock
Yeah I'm a martian what you sayin' Spock?
I turn yo beef into a hamhock
Then I put it in a pan pie
Shoot 'til my hand hot
I can't hear you sayin stop
I hear Nina sayin' pop
I hear Choppa' sayin' chop
I hear niggas screamin' and shit like I say holla at ya boy bitch,
But holla at ya boy bitch,
I'm the boy bitch,
Not ya boy bitch,
Cause ya boy a bitch
Young Moolah crazy!
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