MCGRUFF, CANIBUS, JAE MILLZ, LORD TARIQ, PAPOOSE - Protect Ya Neck Freestyle lyrics

I get kited till the haze gone

That's why my lungs look like they could be related to Grace Jones

You better check what the beat is sayin, I'm like a stove on it

The Dark, it ain't hard to see I'm far from a?

Harlem, faggot fuck your past views

You think it's '89 the way niggas still snatch jewels

Plus niggas clap tools

And they'll have lead engraved in your skin like the ink they use for tattoos

Look I ain't one of them rap dudes who act rude

And yack about how much back in the day they gat blew

Nah homie, I don't spit it, I live it

Shit matter fact I do both witout even movin my pivot

I swear I wish I had a camcorder

So you could see how I go in booths and come out with charges of manslaughter

You motherfuckers prolly heard it befo

But just in case you dumb niggas ain't know...

I'm a four bar killa, killa reflection in all ya'll mirrors

First Slay gave me breakfast now all ya'll dinner

Cause my shots wasn't for ya'll niggas

But it's enough room in the cemetery for all ya'll niggas

I carry the Mack Milli, I don't play with toy guns

I raise M&M's like the Detroit slums

Thugacation Nation, niggas avoid them

Brooklyn is the place we build and destroy from

Pull out the M-1, leave you and your boys done

Niggas thought I was 97 the way I point one

You can't compares us, you here to fear us, then plan the grammar

I'm the hand in hander, blam the cannons, I'm jamming hammers

Put a knot in back of his head just like a bandana

Niggas always want static, that's why I pack an antenna

From New York, Pap is a monster

I got a hundred guns and fifty clips, half of 'em revolvers

Yo I put it to you so raw, you prolly O.D. on the floor

That's what you get for disagreeing with God

The Lebron James Bond, my aim with the arm is so long

That I could tag along, with Socom

I spit to the beat, flip like Swizz did to the beat

At sunrise I spit to the East

Niggas talk shit in the streets

When they bout to get released, they ain't got no lip for the beast

Make you strip like police, I point the heat

From the hip to get leverage if you more than four deep

Got a pistol grip hawk with a chrome beak

Shit is so deep, I check to make sure it's no leaks

Lookin like Jada in the black Jaggari

Half Jag, half Ferrari, the valet saw me

Shorty wanna know how the flesh work, what's under my sweatshirt

That's why I hit the gym till my chest hurt

Next year's summer I'm a kill a conjecture

For now I'm just a hustler tryna give you my best work

Lord, pimpin it's truest, I really do this

Still amongst the realest and focused as a Buddhist

Notice how I stroke this, quote it "I influence"

The youngest to the oldest, I'm Jesus to the Judas (huh)

The reason the game done weakened the chain

They speakin my name, they speak it in vain, but they clueless

And when I reach for the thang, they each wanna change

They speech and they claims, But, I'm a do this

Cock and squeeze on who wanna romp with me

Got G's on that (OOWEE), that'll stomp with me

By now you shoulda heard how the Feds wan get me

And how my bread long like the dreads on Ziggy

You're dead wrong silly, I ain't tryna take nine shots

To sell records, that there song's Fifty

I ain't doin time cause I'm good with crime

Sorry, but that's how my crew is designed

Team Saga, we chasin that agua, that's the glory

You could see it on the E True Hollywood Stories

Bout how they hollerin for me, blind how to endure me

But not witout profit, surely you ridin for me (C'mon B)

Yo the Fif will lift you, so damn high up in the sky

Niggas prolly think you could fly

Niggas like you don't think you could die

Yap nigga's shines, throw drinks in they eyes

Stick-up kids, shoot it out, like Billy The Kid

Shit I rap about is the shit, I really done did

Shit you rap about is the shit you really don't live

You think the streets don't know you oh-so-fake

Lameass cornball namer hold no weight

You's a sucka in the hood bitch, nigga I'm hood rich

Strippin all the good shit, stay in some bullshit

Sprayin the full clip, makin sure every bullet count

Bounce a couple bullets in ya mouth

Know where you rest at, pull up at ya house

Wifey, I bless that, be pullin up her blouse

Holla at ya boy, in ya cranberry exhaust

Beige interior, pedal to the floor

Heavy on the bling, Sean John velour

When them shells pop out them twelves, pellets whiz and they twist niggas

He filled mine with blanks, said wassup till we switched blinkers

Thinkin I'm dumb, but he don't know my 9 got a twin sister

Sixteen kids in her, they hungry, they skipped dinner

Squalie on that hollow tip diet, ya gettin thinner

You know the difference now between a wild and a bitch nigga

The type that go to trial the other would rather skip nigga

Hard livin not knowin if your momma exist nigga

Started with the yellow radio on the block spittin

Everybody and they mother heard before Pop listened

I was on that Tupac and with Hova and Nas dissin

Each other, it was hard cause both of them had caught my vision

I'm better than whatever rapper you bring in front of me

It's a lot of Jiggas and Pacs but it's only one of me

Don't nobody want it, that's the reason I'm bored

Cause they buyin they ways into battles they cannot afford

Before I get at a nigga, I go straight to the source

Shit I say make 'em get pen, paper, and a Thesaurus

The Militia, they ain't got shit for us

I'll have a nigga runnin like Forest, through a forest, tryin to shake the Taurus

Like he holdin the torch

But him getting away is equivalent to a turtle outrunning a Porsche

Go straight through a nigga door, with the four four

And the moss, in my jacket, if he chattin, to the force

Then he gon get lost, and we both drivin off

But the catch is, his lips'll be taped to the exhaust

Of a four door Ford, with multiple horsepowers

Ya label gotta be pussy cause they endorse cowards nigga