Ca**idy - Pica**o Baby lyrics

[Verse 1: Ca**idy] Cats lame, the rap game in a weird place Every time I listen to n***as I get a earache That coke coming in a square shape I drop it in hot water and whip 'til it deteriorate They say I'm broke and it's sheer hate I've been getting over 10 grand a show for 10 years straight And if you wear tight clothes, then you years late That was back when cats got perms to make there hair straight You scared straight, I ride out, no air breaks f** you, when I cut you, you will bleed like a rare steak That sour D got a rare taste And it stink just like piss on a project staircase It's in my clothes, you smelling it They say don't get high of you own supply, But I'm selling it and inhaling it And haters say that I'm irrelevant, but them n***as not that intelligent Keep yea mouth closed dumby I'm not that old, but got old money That's why the n***as wanna be me and the hoes love me They got gallons of that sh** that cure colds from me And they get that sh** that they sniff up there nose from me It's a f**ing rizzy, cause I get f**ing busy So f** a city, I'm the king of the whole country I talk that sh** cause I could back it up Rap it up, if you can't rap before I smack you up Yup, your b**h come told me to snatch her up But I just got head cause her a** wasn't fat enough I put years and add 'em up Plus I'm married to hip-hop, you ain't gon' f** my marriage up You tryna ball but got hurt knees You must a had a dutch filled with dirt weed and a bag of dust Yo don't make me pick the ratchet up, shoot you in your stomach Make your guts fall out, like when you crack a dutch I hear you rapping, I be cracking up Like you can't be serious, this n***a is hilarious What you tryna do, like every time I hear a rhyme from you I bust out laughing, you should go on ComicView You comical, you remind me of Kevin Hart You trash, but you be ga**ed up, like you never fart I might bite, but I never bark I just tide 'til the wheels fall of, I don't ever park I might fall off some day But my Control freestyle got over a million views in one day So they should sign me, no label or machine behind me Just got my die hard fans and my team behind me You would think I had the army of Marines behind me You not a solider n***a, I will expose you n***as I been in the street, I got folks shook n***as in the business is weak, I got spit coke cooked I just need a notebook, a pen and a beat I eat rappers up, then floss skin out my teeth I'm the Problem, still going by the same name The game change, but I'm staying in the same lane With or without a label, I'm able to maintain Cause I got it locked like a chain gang I mean it ain't the same game, from when I got brung in I was young then, but I'm feeling like I'm young again You think I'm done, then you too funny Cause if thirty the new twenty, then I'm only twenty-one then You young men better calm down Before I turn my palm around, then back slap you and laugh at you And how you figure that I'm washed up Cause all you dirty a** n***as never wash up Tight a** pants on, nuts all squashed up Man they'd a poke you in your bu*t if you was locked up And how you get signed, whose co*k got s**ed Cause you got the toilet stuck with all them bullsh** rhymes You ain't never say a sick line I beat the beat up, with a bunch of punches when I kick rhymes I remember looking in my idols eyes And he looking back at me like, I'm the one he idolize I hear a lot of rhymes, from a lot of guys But I only like 'em if they hot, like McDonald' fries My worst verse better then your best rhyme So why the f** you ga**ed up like an Exxon I could write a hundred bars and start on my next rhyme In less time then it take you to write your next line I'm an ex-con, thinking 'bout the next crime I'mma do and how I'mma get away with it next time I guess I'm a commodity Obviously I'm special, my bars affect your psychologically You can't take the hood outta me, I'm too gutter And you a son of a b**h, you got two mothers I make music that the ghetto like I got Tequila in my cup, and a dutch full of Melo wife I moved out the hood, but still live a ghetto life And you the type to wear a helmet on a pedal bike The softest n***a that I ever met, better yet You way softer then all the n***as I never met You so sweet, so put a cheese, them shells and make a head of lettuce look like taco meat And all them cats that you think can rap It's thinking back like, "damn how the f** that man think of that?" Tryna find a rhyme better then this rap verse It take so much time Jesus be done came back first Every rapper bar think I clowned 'em And all the fans gon' be making a face like something stink around 'em You can't deny that this a hot verse But I'm just getting started, it's about to get a lot worse