Source Vs. Smoove Vs. Precision - Week 10 RFABL
Battles, Source, Freestyles, Hip Hop, Rap, Commercial, Mainstream, Underground
Get At Me.
Story behind the song
Peedi Crakk - "One For Peedi Crakk"
Lyrics
[HOOK]
It's two for ya'll, but none for free
You'll be seein God, if you fuck wit me
I put wings on a nigga, cuz its horns on my head
Nobody spittin sicker when Source gettin fed
[HOOK]
It's bread in the oven, and it's butter in the fridge / I'm better than these youngins, so I'm fuckin wit these kids
Ya lid's get tossed, and ya domes get split / Maybe cracked if you act like my raps aint the shit
Bitch, I'm the nigga wit the swag so righteous / Cocky, so prolly you fags gon like this
I write less and spit more, call me a blister / You pissed off? why my name stay up on ya lips whore?
Every line I flips raw, cocaine even / On a chain you will hang, cuz you folks aint leavin
Propane breathin, fiyah when the curtains pull / I got two mo verses to get personal
It hurts to know, you finks never really blast nothin / I'm the link to the 3-way like the flash button
You sad, don't want it wit a head that's better / Before I rip and really let you rep them letter's
[HOOK] x2
My grind ain't leisure, ya kind ain't neither / You think you got stripes cuz you a bi-racial zebra
Ya mind can't scheme up a plan to win this / Even if you was Popeye wit cans of spinach
My hands is bent fists, duck or get knocked / This mans an apprentice, stuck on my jock
I tuck then I rock, sorta like a fire drill / Source is a heavyweight, Smoove takin diet pills
Dudes say that I am ill, that's the cold truth / Move like a riot will, storm thru yo booth
I'm torn to tone you, down a couple spots / Feel my form de-form you, another fucker rots
In a box wit a brown lid, eternally grounded / You a fuckin joke, all you need is a clown wig
You sound big on the microphone / Before I forefit it, I'll ignite the throne
[HOOK] x2
Week ten, past men couldn't weather the beatin / Source is like the Mavericks in the regular season
I'm ahead of ya legions, a true leader at best / I got a fetish for fetus, I'm soon eatin ya flesh
Even the rest, agree you'll get turned to fans / When I leave the life of Precision to surgeons hands
Churnin lands, Source got big ol legs / To cover lots of ground littered wit little men
I'm the famine in Africa, the depression of old years / You swellin wit soul tears, that rest in a cold beer
I dont fear what cannot defeat me / My peers quote for ears, but cannot repeat me
Tick Tock it's easy, of course I'm runnin thru / Wit flocks of breezies, but none is fuckin you
Source got the W, flossin muscle / Overall I'm number one like JaMarcus Russel
[HOOK] x2
