Fuck Fader - Danse, Tray Pizzy

Hey everybody how are you doing?

This is my friend Mr. Gun, My special guest

Smith & Wesson says get your ass down

This is a stickup, real deal, real gun, full cooperation and no one gets done

You have to listen to words, because thats what I say… — Stop fucking rapping

man this is the real thing!

Young enough to hit your sister

Old enough to hit your mother dog

I’ll piss til you burn alive on that hover board

How you 40 and you just turned blood beloved?

Aim for your nose, leave a hole one inch above it

Im 6'1, 170, puff heavily

From Marborough between Cortelyou & Beverley

Kill the 1st one that ain’t in none of your pictures

OG told me thats the one that’ll get you

I just caught 30,000 bins on the arm

That could buy me the Fader cover and I’ll be on

But fuck Fader and any writer that sniffs salt

Never met a journalist GD at Pitchfork

I be in places you can’t Snap Chat

40 niggas in 40 belows all blacks straps

You eating cereal, they shaving serials off that

Before I serve a feen I bet I’m making them snort crack

Pops told me click that back

When niggas try to jump you, Aim and split that hat

It’s Flatbush

I steal nigga, I don’t trap

Rubber grip, I don’t slip, I don’t lack

That’s a fact

1st it was the shmoney dance

Now everybody dabbin in them funny pants

Niggas praying I don’t pop like a bungee band

Mothafucka In your face is where the lungy lands

You know my name side, know my side, know my set

Look nigga know my fly, see my jet

No nigga, you get fly then you get wet

Team Nike, I say ride then you get checked

Ride!

Flex drop a bomb over Baghdad

Ask your dad’s dad I been in my bag bag

Whipping in the kitchen like it’s bad bad

Body niggas you can put them in a Glad bag

Tell them niggas it’s a stickup

A chest shot will hit them like a hiccup

Get a road we gon' drag him with the pickup

Headshots we don’t want to fuck his strip up

All we want is our respect

And our Brooklyn niggas shooting shit and its nothing but net

Danse these niggas don’t want to dance

Put them in wheelchairs these niggas don’t stand a chance

I knock a block off with that block soft

Got my rocks off because I was doing drop offs

All i wanted was a gun and a drop Porsche

Now that’s an and1 with the Hot Sauce

I cross over like PitBull, the clip full

You trying to guard God, you going to get your card pulled

80 block, Broke and Trippy grab your blicky

All you niggas can walk because we running the city

Eat!

Y’all made these blog writers rock stars

Paying them for a post saying you got bars

Retaining them, like they lawyers and you just got charged

Praying to a punk with the pen nigga that’s not God

A label asked me, you been up on Fader yet?

I told them «nah because I ain’t pay that retainer yet»

6k a month?

nah this AK will jump

I don’t rock Thrasher you Bastard, you sniff a 8th of bumps

Uhhh, and I don’t like that shit

Don’t spit it like its you if you ain’t write that shit

Just because you don’t see a ramp, don’t mean your bike can’t flip

Because you could fucking get left off a right hand click

It fucks me up when a nigga gets shot who ain’t supposed to go

Like I set the pick and he popped when he was supposed to roll

Summertime, used to play the freezer in western beef

For AC, now it’s AC with extra heat

Pook uptop, with minute rice in a blue bowl

Black spoon, you know that he mixing it wit the pulpo

I still got the jugo

I be in traffic with drops on my iWatch nigga to snatch your Hublot

Because fuck staying patient

When you from a place where you inhaling the air and the Fragrance is so

flagrant

And it’s so blatant that satan is advocating this hating

And wing niggas are advocating this faking

Rap turned to wrestling and wrestling is all fake

Until you Blue Blazer the fake shit and real blood hits the apron

Ask Nashawn if I was on Vyse Ave

Brooklyn nigga, but uptown love my swag

Word to Doe and word to Dark and them

I ain’t with the bitch shit, but This shit’ll spark when it bark and I’m

Candace Park’n em

Yeah, it’s Double D, no Teta Pad

Y’all niggaas must’ve smoked a Wepa Bag

Thinking you this nice