Reverse

Produced by Carlos “6 July” Broady, Nashiem Myrick

Promise to do a nigga since Nicolas Barnes

Poppin' and choppin' until the day that I'm gone

Shyne Po', playa's dreams come through on vinyl

Prominent premier, premium bravo

Watch him explain ain't nothin' but blood thug crime though

Shots in the spinal for my rivals

Cross the T's and dot the I's and

Pay the judge, drop the top and let's ride

Shit, it's the kid, rappers fearin'

You cowards don't know? I'd rather be racketeerin' somewhere

Bustin' shots in the atmosphere and

Not carin', fuckin' the prosecutor at my hearin'

Money launderin', honies wonderin'

Who me? I reply casually

I'm what God would be if he was a straight G

Tonight, too tight, arrogant, bitch, we ride

[Verse 3: Redman]

Yo yo yo, it's your hide

Grab the rope and yell rawhide

Front line is pussy, call off sides

I'm focused but my hand is cross-eyed

I left my gun home, here borrow mine

Pop the nine like the judge, "All rise"

This gun'll knock planes off tour guides

We value-packs, y'all small fries

(Yo, I'm from the projects)

Yo, but on the floor tied

Don't matter, we'll take up all size

Truly yours Doc, then PPP hide

My name is since five, I talk jive

In church dressed in corduroy ties

Now I'm grown up and been married four times

Besides, I'm just a sight for sore eyes

Brick city, known pop the door wide

Stolen Bonneville in New York High

[Verse 4: G-Dep]

Reversin' the plot

Last come, first one to rot, burstin' the Glock

If I miss, circlin' the block, servin' the pot

And I be the person to watch

If your girl missin' the rock, purse and a watch

Hot as it gets, from Hell came outta the depths

Buy the cassette, rewind it to death

Alota y'all sweat it, you try to forget

How I rock shit from N.Y. to Tibet

You got it to bet? That's just how you got into debt

You lost when you nodded your neck

Through the vest, through the chest that you tried to protect

Take the voice that you try to project, check

Darin' you to kid, cat shootin' sperm in you wiz

I'm why you smell herb in the crib

Man I'm out for doubtful, shit I spit a mouthful

Indo out-do, intro to outro

[Verse 5: Sauce Money]

I'm the hottest thing spittin' so go warn your clique

Them niggas y'all look up to is on my dick

Sauce motherfuckin' born to hit

I get so far up in your ass, think I was on some shit

Look, you against me is really nothin' to see

Who, when, where, what it's gon' be

I don't give a fuck if it's he or she

I'm the virgin of hip hop, nobody fuckin' with me

I know your type, you a ride dick nigga

Cry sick nigga, lied quick nigga

Out of turn speakin', first one leakin'

Always the Suzuki, side kick nigga

Bitches don't cast stones down, they throw bricks

Why I come through and tell 'em to blow dick

These niggas the nicest? No, go fish

Sauce, you the best motherfucker, no shit

[Verse 6: Cee-Lo]

You're treated and competed, walk away from it undefeated

Observe it from over there, okay

Ain't it obvious we overheated

You talkin' that slick shit

But I jus' know that you meant me

But evidently, you don't know

I get your ass gone permanently

It ain't complex

I'll just bang holes in your Avirex and ask who next

Do a drive-by on your project, take the traps

Come on and get some of our gun craps

I'll straighten out the nigga now

When I snap, make your chest cavity collapse

When I glide the entire map

With the frequent four alarm fire, rap straight up

Put weight down, fuck around, you ate up

And nigga when I eat, I mean I lick the whole plate up

Look in my eyes, I'm not scared

Sucka, you heard what I said

If you don't wanna get dead

No it ain't no cure, ice cold in the low, the go-rilla

The mo' scrilla the more real-la, I live to rule

[Verse 7: Busta Rhymes]

Yo, yo yo, yo yo

Don't hold me back, you bet

How many nigga's think they fuckin' with mines

A nigga God blessed with such an undeniable shine

I hope you know there's nothin' fresher

The manifester apply the pressure

Tie you up and gag you in your mouth with a piece of polyester

Now fix your fuckin' face up

Empty the chest of drawers before I stretch your jaw

Everybody hit the FUCKIN' FLOOR!

Only the real motherfuckers belong

I hope niggas don't end the party before we finish the song

(Bitch nigga)

You be the last to come and harrass, reflect on the past

When I used to pull spine outcho ass

Live niggas go stack money, continue to build shit

Long as I'm in this fucker I'm determined to kill shit

Zap niggas like cellular flips and swell up your lips

Fuck with so much dick in their ass it's shrinkin' her hen house

Hey yo, before you empty your clip and pull at your trigger

Salute the legacy of these thoroughly repping live niggas

Lyrics provided by LRCLIB