Yea, yea, yea
I'm sittin' back and attackin' these rappers with a 50 caliber
Aim it at em' then...
And split they melons like Gallagher
I'd say that my swag's attractive but I feel that's inaccurate
I'd rather focus on actually rappin' instead of askin'
"Does my hat match with my Graffiks?"
Those are DC if that matters
I know they ain't no thousand dollar pair of Gucci sandals
I mean come on homie you actin' like ya clothes will help ya rappin'
I can't understand half the shit y'all be yappin'
What the f*ck are you on?
Xannies, maybe addies? I'd check your brain's connection
Cause I feel like the reception is exceptionally laggy
I would say I feel bad for takin' shots cause I know you mad
But what in the actual f*ck you expect me to do when you gave me a pen and a pad?
For real though
Yo
I'm new to this shit but I'm takin' aim
At any mothaf*cka thinkin' they the same
I'll maim em' leave em' lame and put they name to shame
They ain't gon' make it
Better pray I don't slay your whole career
Make you give up and walk away
Hey!
Wait!
I'm double timing this shit hold ya horses
Get in my way you can join the corpses
Cause I be killin' this shit when I'm in this don't get it twisted it's about to get morbid
Yea mothaf*cka I'm new to this but I'm still talkin' shit cause it's humorous
I got em' all screamin' my name, you get up on stage they askin' "uh who is this?"
You think that cause you got a Ratti, a thottie
A hundred pairs of clothes that you gotta be
Puttin' up a front while "keepin' it a hundred"
I don't give a f*ck cause you just a wannabe
Homie please you ain't no competition goin' up against me is a swing and a miss
You pissin' in the wind and wishin'
That it would just switch its direction but there's no protection
Come step into my mind
Look in my eyes
You chose a battle with the wrong mothaf*cka
You gonna be the one to die but I'll be chillin' at my house with Freddie and Michael
Even both of them were frightened and they had decided that I'm f*ckin' psycho
Cause I go zero to a hundred I be huntin' mothaf*ckas with a sniper rifle
You think that my verses are corny? You thinkin' they boring?
Think I'm just some random f*ckin' white boy tryin' to spit bars for some likes?
Well yo here's some insight for the critics that seem
To get a kick from talkin' this shit on the internet
If you ain't likin' the shit that I'm spittin' then suck on this middle appendage bitch
TMP - Newbie Lyrics
TMP - Newbie Lyrics
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We currently do not have these lyrics.
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English
Yea, yea, yea
I'm sittin' back and attackin' these rappers with a 50 caliber
Aim it at em' then...
And split they melons like Gallagher
I'd say that my swag's attractive but I feel that's inaccurate
I'd rather focus on actually rappin' instead of askin'
"Does my hat match with my Graffiks?"
Those are DC if that matters
I know they ain't no thousand dollar pair of Gucci sandals
I mean come on homie you actin' like ya clothes will help ya rappin'
I can't understand half the shit y'all be yappin'
What the f*ck are you on?
Xannies, maybe addies? I'd check your brain's connection
Cause I feel like the reception is exceptionally laggy
I would say I feel bad for takin' shots cause I know you mad
But what in the actual f*ck you expect me to do when you gave me a pen and a pad?
For real though
Yo
I'm new to this shit but I'm takin' aim
At any mothaf*cka thinkin' they the same
I'll maim em' leave em' lame and put they name to shame
They ain't gon' make it
Better pray I don't slay your whole career
Make you give up and walk away
Hey!
Wait!
I'm double timing this shit hold ya horses
Get in my way you can join the corpses
Cause I be killin' this shit when I'm in this don't get it twisted it's about to get morbid
Yea mothaf*cka I'm new to this but I'm still talkin' shit cause it's humorous
I got em' all screamin' my name, you get up on stage they askin' "uh who is this?"
You think that cause you got a Ratti, a thottie
A hundred pairs of clothes that you gotta be
Puttin' up a front while "keepin' it a hundred"
I don't give a f*ck cause you just a wannabe
Homie please you ain't no competition goin' up against me is a swing and a miss
You pissin' in the wind and wishin'
That it would just switch its direction but there's no protection
Come step into my mind
Look in my eyes
You chose a battle with the wrong mothaf*cka
You gonna be the one to die but I'll be chillin' at my house with Freddie and Michael
Even both of them were frightened and they had decided that I'm f*ckin' psycho
Cause I go zero to a hundred I be huntin' mothaf*ckas with a sniper rifle
You think that my verses are corny? You thinkin' they boring?
Think I'm just some random f*ckin' white boy tryin' to spit bars for some likes?
Well yo here's some insight for the critics that seem
To get a kick from talkin' this shit on the internet
If you ain't likin' the shit that I'm spittin' then suck on this middle appendage bitch
I'm sittin' back and attackin' these rappers with a 50 caliber
Aim it at em' then...
And split they melons like Gallagher
I'd say that my swag's attractive but I feel that's inaccurate
I'd rather focus on actually rappin' instead of askin'
"Does my hat match with my Graffiks?"
Those are DC if that matters
I know they ain't no thousand dollar pair of Gucci sandals
I mean come on homie you actin' like ya clothes will help ya rappin'
I can't understand half the shit y'all be yappin'
What the f*ck are you on?
Xannies, maybe addies? I'd check your brain's connection
Cause I feel like the reception is exceptionally laggy
I would say I feel bad for takin' shots cause I know you mad
But what in the actual f*ck you expect me to do when you gave me a pen and a pad?
For real though
Yo
I'm new to this shit but I'm takin' aim
At any mothaf*cka thinkin' they the same
I'll maim em' leave em' lame and put they name to shame
They ain't gon' make it
Better pray I don't slay your whole career
Make you give up and walk away
Hey!
Wait!
I'm double timing this shit hold ya horses
Get in my way you can join the corpses
Cause I be killin' this shit when I'm in this don't get it twisted it's about to get morbid
Yea mothaf*cka I'm new to this but I'm still talkin' shit cause it's humorous
I got em' all screamin' my name, you get up on stage they askin' "uh who is this?"
You think that cause you got a Ratti, a thottie
A hundred pairs of clothes that you gotta be
Puttin' up a front while "keepin' it a hundred"
I don't give a f*ck cause you just a wannabe
Homie please you ain't no competition goin' up against me is a swing and a miss
You pissin' in the wind and wishin'
That it would just switch its direction but there's no protection
Come step into my mind
Look in my eyes
You chose a battle with the wrong mothaf*cka
You gonna be the one to die but I'll be chillin' at my house with Freddie and Michael
Even both of them were frightened and they had decided that I'm f*ckin' psycho
Cause I go zero to a hundred I be huntin' mothaf*ckas with a sniper rifle
You think that my verses are corny? You thinkin' they boring?
Think I'm just some random f*ckin' white boy tryin' to spit bars for some likes?
Well yo here's some insight for the critics that seem
To get a kick from talkin' this shit on the internet
If you ain't likin' the shit that I'm spittin' then suck on this middle appendage bitch
Writer: Travis Priester
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid