Bishop Lamont - Send A n***a Home lyrics

[Intro] [Mr. Porter talking] Yeah. Turn them lights back down too. Uh, uh, uh. Shhh shhh shhhh shhhh shh. [Chorus] [Mr. Porter] (Bishop Lamont) Now who the f** is this n***a interruptin' my zone? Must be out his mind Send that n***a home 'Bout to make this young boy hop off of that throne (I don't miss when I shoot) Send that n***a home See I can see in your eyes you a punk and you don't wanna get down (You don't want it, you don't really really want it) You can look at me and tell I'm the type that'll lay you down (He don't want it, he just frontin', he don't want it) [Verse One] [Bishop Lamont] I'm afraid of rappers on my wall, when I was growin' up I'm grown now but most of y'all motherf**ers s** It's Bishop b**hes, MC's get on your knees, give praise Please, please the deity, the steez call it E.V.P. Ghost In The Machine, he's who you will never see Impossible to view the scraps to stack like that T.N.T. I'm so Primo and I ain't go to D&D Feelin' buck enough to lift up your S.U.V. f** that club sh** I'm on that thug sh** Break b**hes, shake b**hes, f** love sh** Finger f** 'em and Donkey punch 'em What's to explain, my brain got a malfunction Way down down, past down syndrome Schizophrenia, poppin' pistols, put ten in ya Injure ya, dismember ya, chop your body up, get rid of ya Milk carton b**h, who the f** gon' remember ya? [Chorus] [Mr. Porter] (Bishop Lamont) Now who the f** is this n***a interruptin' my zone? Must be out his mind Send that n***a home 'Bout to make this young boy hop off of that throne (I don't miss when I shoot) Send that n***a home See I can see in your eyes you a punk and you don't wanna get down (You don't want it, you don't really really want it) You can look at me and tell I'm the type that'll lay you down (He don't want it, he just frontin', he don't want it) [Verse One] [Bishop Lamont] (f** that) Give me blades, give me hand grenades (f** that) Give me two uzi's and a 12 gauge (f** that) Click click click clack, to push your cap Tips flip you back, your sh** is flat then it's a rap Your jaw crack, brain is mayonnaise sh** dribbles, shrivel, flambe like plantains The sh** I scribble belittle your hardest riddles You f*ggots is all sk**s, cupcakes with soft middles See I'm old school, you kids is all middle Fiddle with a syllable criminal, rearrange your dental I'll bust your sh**, your grill will look just like a piano I bust that tongue twist sh** cause I miss Big Pun I'll bust your motherf**in' a** n***a just for fun Boom shocka lock here comes the +Chief Rock+ On your block, cop a squat, couple glocks and a couple shots Split up couples when it pops All you n***as better watch All that tough sh** you talk, knowin' you'll run tell the cops [Chorus] [Mr. Porter] (Bishop Lamont) Now who the f** is this n***a interruptin' my zone? Must be out his mind Send that n***a home 'Bout to make this young boy hop off of that throne (I don't miss when I shoot) Send that n***a home See I can see in your eyes you a punk and you don't wanna get down (You don't want it, you don't really really want it) You can look at me and tell I'm the type that'll lay you down (He don't want it, he just frontin', he don't want it)\ [Verse Three] Name your favorite rapper f** him homie! If you ain't say me n***a, f** you, blow me It's only evident, apparent, I'm here to inherit the throne To rule alone above these fake characters None can compare with this, ain't no competitors The rhetoric's repetitive, make me sleepy like a sedative Voltron, black line, n***a I'm the head of this Stop tryin', stop lyin', beatin' me is a negative I bench 450 Both eyes shifty My ice pick ain't picky It give your neck a hickey Sewin' some sh** to sticky That gun play is tricky I keep that quicker picker upper a n***a, right here with me Beowolf to Air Wolf, air strikes, stay off your roof Hand to hand, break the sh** with my palms like I'm aloof Don't act aloof, I'm couth to who's the truth inside the booth Get at me ba*tards if you f*ggots need more proof [Chorus] [Mr. Porter] (Bishop Lamont) Now who the f** is this n***a interruptin' my zone? Must be out his mind Send that n***a home 'Bout to make this young boy hop off of that throne (I don't miss when I shoot) Send that n***a home See I can see in your eyes you a punk and you don't wanna get down (You don't want it, you don't really really want it) You can look at me and tell I'm the type that'll lay you down (He don't want it, he just frontin', he don't want it)