Shutdown Lyrics

Aiyo, in the place to be Be B-E-R-E-Double T-A N-I-N-E Aiyo, check it (Aiyo yo yo aiyo yo yo Lord Superb up in this shit too) [Beretta 9] Aiyo check it We super-precede that that, recede that Might need that, take that bitch Won't give it back, no, time is of the essence Rap murder fashion on parking lot cypher When I go first, go last When I'm aimin' a, heatseeker projectile Missile, comin' off all MC's, X-File Mingle with the mangler, mic cord strangler Hangin' with B9 is like you better hang it up bitch Off the hitman, either dig it and dug, or get dug in Shot the club, got a snub in Dare one of ya'll come test this Check one out opponent, and the next on my list is.. [Interlude: Lord Superb] Nobody, it's 'Perb, yo, yo Yo, I ain't wanna do it to ya'll but fuck it, yo [Lord Superb] Superb, I'm a muthafuckin' risk to rap Step in the game like, "this is rap?" I thought this shit was this and that This game ain't jack, I'm about to go plat This verse right here, I'm wreck this shit As for the album, I'mma perfect this shit In a class by myself, I ain't next to shit Had to get out the hood, them projects ain't shit Want an 8-series Benz, a Lex ain't shit And my one chain truck jewelry, ya'll necks ain't shit We could, spit it for mills or spit it for deals When it's over, we gon' see who spit it for real I battle you for your bitch, we could battle for your moms I kill you with a rhyme I wrote with no arms If L.L.'s the G.O.A.T., Greatest of All Times I'm the G.O.A.S., Greatest on All Sides East side, West side, North side, South side I spit murder so much, my muthafuckin' mouth wide [Beretta 9] Brought my most in my heart, kid, don't fall victim Blood type 0, I got a rare condition Two beretta nine's in my aim's, so bitchin' Lick two shots, you caught two for flinchin' A bad muthafucka, stayed in detention A smart muthafucka, this is my invention I eat a sucka nigga, that's why I stay shittin' [Hell Razah] My level get higher every time you inchin' [Chorus 2X: Hell Razah] Crack the Gray Goose and roll the Dutches All my street hustlers, in the game and we ain't puppets Niggas hate it but the chicks love it Look at the ass rubbin, we go to clubs with the gat tucked in [Hell Razah] When I spaz I spaz, we in the days where it's Digital cash Leave artists with no vocal chords, like a giraffe Hydro bag, mixed with Morocco hash With a mind like Ramadan, I think too fast I burn through studio booths and fiber glass Slap a chick on the ass and make her pay for the tab Get the keys, roll the weed before we hopped in the Jag Ya'll junior varsity players can't get off the bench Hit a nza with this wrench and fulfill the suspense One flinch, I'm on point like a barbwire fence [Chorus]