Lyfe of tha real Gangstas
• Written by Suppressor
[VERSE 1]
Blasting the assault rifle
capping your sorry ass
cancelling your survival
another insect
splattered, HA!
Bandana on, no one to suspect
entertained, having the wine pouring
legs up on the table, relaxed
later to be snoring
next day, trading crystal
to keep my expenses
awaiting my pay
rumbled notes, highly stacked
my wallets fully packed
continuing my trafficking
bitches going low
providing a blow
rapping about this shit,
making these lines flow
while the lighter begins to glow
suckers that wanna talk shit
will be struck, like a napalm hit
unleashing a hellstorm of rounds
representing my grounds
talking shit, you get a blast
the streets are cold
but it's all about making that Gold
don't like these rhymes? Well, fuck you!
I'll set you up in a death row queue
one way ticket to the penitentiary
you'll be regretting your entry
little bitches acting supreme
putting you in your place
bashing your head open like cream.
[HOOK]
Flipping out a blade from my side and it's shining
just as the punk bitches kept whining
just as the punk bitches fled, perfect timing
funny shit that I had to put into my rhyming.
[VERSE 2]
Two rags thrown up in the air
both being different colours
beef starts, shots fired from a flare
to call in the backup
rounds whistling all over the place
sights pointed at the opponent’s face
more dead bodies on the concrete
then come the feds, cleaning up the street
flashing lights appearing, running feet
wheels drifting off in a heartbeat
hiding in our cribs
pounding on the door
I open up, who can it be?
feds slamming us down to the floor
questions asked, we are on mute
one snitch raising his voice
compromising us, we’re put behind bars
when we get out, we’ll swarm
on the little bitch, leaving him with scars
that’s how the streets work
just as the punk police start to lurk
in their vision it’s like a perk
Corrupt feds pulling us over, going berserk
shaking my pockets, finding nothing, I smirk
they were wishing to bust me for illegal murk.
[HOOK]
Flipping out a blade from my side and it's shining
just as the punk bitches kept whining
just as the punk bitches fled, perfect timing
funny shit that I had to put into my rhyming.
[VERSE 3]
Swinging in with the L next to my belt
kicking down the doors
entering the local stores
leaving the till empty, grabbing the scores
red and blue colours appearing
in my car’s mirror,
just as the feds get nearer
pulling out the pin, dashing it out of the window
making my way clearer
just as I see the flames increase
they spread like the bubonic disease
I just laugh, while polishing my Uzi’s
typical gangsta violence
capping the fuckers, expecting silence
went to the bar where my homies chill
drinking till my head starts sinking
going back to the block
fucking the ho’s
until I caught a bitch in my room
trying to steal my shit
dashed the bitch out of the door
without this dough, she is poor
later the bitch came strapped
my homies opened the door
with golden AK’s, the bitch crapped
another fucked up thing to laugh about
empty bottles next to me, I pass out
same with the others
the homies we are, like brothers
from different mothers.
[HOOK]
Flipping out a blade from my side and it's shining
just as the punk bitches kept whining
just as the punk bitches fled, perfect timing
funny shit that I had to put into my rhyming.
Feedback & Comments
About the Artist
Suppressor
Member since July 11 2017