Funkmaster Flex - Freestyle (Hot 97) lyrics

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Funkmaster Flex - Freestyle (Hot 97) lyrics

Feel like I'm big meech When I be cashing out Holding my bottles up champagne splashing out We all got rooms nobody crash the couch More K's at the crib than a Kardashian house No Brian Pumper j**els just large links A lotta ice in em, I'm talkin large drinks Lets see what the Audemars thinks My necklace make chicks Nicki Minaj blink There is no challengers F what the dodge thinks I'm ridin in some.... My garage stinks Coconut Ciroc Coca loso Pretty boy swag never coke my nose though Got your baby mama eatin off Philippe plates It means the world to her to me it's just a cheap date Plenty fish in the sea And I keep bait You're a broke rollerblader, cheap skate My g plate say "tune into the game" Competition k**er Funeral's the name Listen up son I'm immune to all the lame If I fathered your style, put a junior to your name I searched the whole planet There's no comp on earth Sky blue J's look like I stomped a smurf Life is but a dream Ain't always what it seem Meanwhile get your cake red velvet bu*ter cream Raise your gla** Now lets toast to when we didn't have Hustle plus muscle equals success, I did the math I see haters in pa**ing yea they round I be on the way up They be on the way down Now I can sit and talk sh** like Skip Bayless You looking for these shoes baby you can skip Payless Won't be on Craigslist Lifestyle's A-list On my way to vegas Ipod playlist Yea, just another page in my success story I make my worst enemies work the best for me My only job, persistant and consistent I go so hard my a**istants need a**istants I'm living my hands on, get the feel of it Life's a b**h you might want to get familiar with Yea...Yea...I ain't done...I ain't done...Can we keep going? This the flow that put haters on their d**hbed And make the chicks blow the whistle give me ref head Somebody call 911 like 'Clef said Before my mans and them black out - Meth Red The newspaper said 'young rapper left dead' The only suspect they have is young funeral And when you see him, he might be on his goony prowl So just put em up in the air George Clooney style Slow motion for me, Soulja Slim Juvenile Don't shoot move, a dude can't move his bowels Or catch it like Larry Fitzgerald Kurt Warner bullets pourin out the fifth barrel Baby Im'a make it My sh**s thorough Shootin blanks Yall ? The competi- Can't hold me But first lay in the box And cross your hands for me Fan base k**er blame your loss of fans on me I triple what you see's like Ross's mans homie Dudes get to New York look lost as D'antoni You pick the place everybody cross the land know me Keep it real, I can't endorse of stand phonies Unless we arm wrestle never force my hand homie These YSL's cost a grand only My white girl bought that Porsche sedan for me Sweet, sweet like Georgia peaches School of hard ... I get brain from gorgeous teachers Funeral in the house, no mortgage either Any competition he see, the boy is ethered I can't feel my face, this that Boston George's reefer You lie if you say I ain't hotter than August weether I mean weather, you can't see me I mean ever Ever ever? Andre 3g This is me, G Gucci print G G Clean ice, neck full of frozen fiji Been in the game long as Mario Luigi No Juvenile, Wayne, Turk, or BG I'm still hot boy But its not a game jack You bang right the first time they don't bang back Dudes can't ball like me they quickly nearing horse I bring d**h to em No hearing loss Nice

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