Breathe
Verse 1:
Never duck another mother f****r repeat it
Never duck another mother f****r
N***a better delete it
Put the cerebellum in killa mode
For real a foe can never get
With what a gorilla know
Killa syllable fillin'
Yo biblical ritual the s**t to get rid
Of yo pain hearing your pitiful game,
This is political pain
Deep in the pit of yo brain let it rain
With a unforgettable aim
N***a lookin' for a spot to bust
Cause the homie that you killed meant a lot to us
Buck instead of lookin' for a c*** to f**k
Kill a ***a like he was rockin' a swastika
You can do it but you blew it cause lockin' up
Get your ride on ***a is you rock or what?
Lots of luck,
You're really gonna need it hella heated
Mother f****r let the glock erupt, Box him up
I don't wanna be the one
To get a milla meter in the gut
I wanna be the one to hit'em with another milli
Cut up In the middle I'm a little sick
And different And I meant it
When I said it you remember that?
(Hell mother fu***' yeah)
You don't wanna get in trouble
With a ***a like the Teccanina
If your lookin' like a enemy bust
We don't ever stop and take a minute
We just
Chorus:
(Breathe!)
Hey son what the f**k are you duckin' from?
(Breathe!)
They come bets to fight every fuckin'one
(Breathe!)
Say some punks around and some buckin' guns
(Breathe!)
Spray guns might result in you bussin' some
(Breathe!)
Verse 2:
Never let a hatin' mother f****r
See ya sweat
Bleed the chest no need regret
A fun day caper a Sunday paper
So I can read the rest I can dig it you can dig it
Put a ***a in the grave if he hate or penetrate
The loop of love
A ***a made if you step into me
You will never benefit
N***a if I start it Imma finish it
Run up on a mother fucka
While he fu***' a chick
Put a bullet in her head while she suckin' the d**k
Wasn't a bit of evidence baby it's irrelevant
You got it with yo ***a that's the luck of the grit
Bring pain 2 everyone in your face with the bane
You bury some it's mother fu***' shame
We carry guns
If you don't you're insane or very dumb
Teccanina's too rough (too rough), too hard (too hard), too tough (too tough), you scarred (you scarred)
Cause a ***a know
A mother fu***' round will spit
Fu***' around with the killa clown and s**t.
If you really wanna do it ***a we can step into
Put us up against some mother fuckers
And we runnin' thru it
F**k a ***a buck a ***a
If he think he's a gorilla
Meant I when I said it you remember that
(hell mother fu***' yeah)
You don't wanna get in trouble
With a ***a like the Teccanina
If you're lookin' like a enemy, bust
We don't ever stop and take a minute
We jus,
Chorus:
(Breathe!)
Hey son what the f**k are you duckin' from?
(Breathe!)
They come bets to fight every fuckin'one
(Breathe!)
Say some punks around and some buckin' guns
(Breathe!)
Spray guns might result in you bussin' some
(Breathe!)
Verse 3:
Get sprayed by the Tech 9 handgun
Now I'm on the out run
Flowin' the beginning hot cooked will done
Fu***' wit a crazy insane warlord
Punks wanna trip but they know
I'm too mother fu***' hard
Deadly ticking like a time bomb
Fu***' with me you think you were in Vietnam
When I explode aint nuttin left
But remains for those who are froze
For fu***' wit a ***a insane
Mentally minded mad mother fu***' mad man
Is out to attack
Sinkin' punks like quick sand
Droppin' and poppin'
Any punk that bucks up bring a body bag
If you wanna get f****d up
There it is you little b***h made
N***a start runnin'
When I'm playin' with the trigga
Of an uzi a twelve gauge
Really don't matter many suckas die
When the shot gun scatter
From block 2 block, hood 2 hood
Street 2 street boy you can't f**k with me
So 4 those who chose 2 jump up and talk s**t
Admit ya b***h your little a** got lit
I don't wanna be the one
To get a milla meter in the gut
I wanna be the one to hit'em with another milli
Cut up In the middle I'm a little sick
And different And I meant it
When I said it you remember that?
(Hell mother fu***' yeah)
You don't wanna get in trouble
With a ***a like the Teccanina
If your lookin' like a enemy bust
We don't ever stop and take a minute
We just breathe
Chorus (2x):
(Breathe!)
Hey son what the f**k are you duckin' from?
(Breathe!)
They come bets to fight every fuckin'one
(Breathe!)
Say some punks around and some buckin' guns
(Breathe!)
Spray guns might result in you bussin' some
(Breathe!)