k**a-kc - With My Stack lyrics

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k**a-kc - With My Stack lyrics

Yeah Dr.k**a, you better act like you know Straight of the pitch, the third mic gave a small pinch And ever since they've been waitin' on this twelve inch It's Peanut bu*ter Wolf, Rasco anticipated Steppin' to mics will only get cracks obliterated Turn up these levels, let me bless those that's feelin' this Run on this path and I'ma rip fools continuous This nonstop entourage rockin' camouflage Is quick to handle any n***a thinkin' sabotage Really, who in the hell is this big Willy? We'll run him down, rip his out and smack him silly My microphone filled with flames, takin' all names The first to tell 'em that this hip hop ain't all games I rock the planet, transatlantic, meanin' overseas Down with various, but this box don't come in threes Got EBF to the friz chillin' close range Pockets is flat, time to stack me some pocket change But ain't it strange how this hard work has paid off? Remember days when I was flat broke and laid off But gettin' fired only inspired the dope sh** Now magazines on the scene tryin' to quote sh** Given the wackest hip hop overblown props Styles is stolen better call up the damn cops Tell 'em to bring they paddy wagon, got a lot of folks Stand-up comedians is all set to crack jokes Gavel to gavel, brothers gettin' drug through the gravel A little buzz, yo, but my rhymes just didn't travel A gotta take it to the next, start cashin' checks I see you brothers perpertratin' in that rented Lex Tryin' to flex like you some type of big wheel I'm on the mic, n***az just get they wigs peeled Still, I know these wack fools be lovin' it Place your bets and I bet Ras can double it Scratched Chorus(x2): "Rhymes decapitate 'em when I activate 'em." "Get behind the real rhymer." Some of you fools on the mic just bug me Sippin' on ???? n***az talkin' 'bout his bubbly Yo' broke a** ain't never sipped on no Cristal Pulled no holes or even shot off a pistol The perpetratin' pulled the stick out for penetratin' Have you at home layin' flat, rehabilitatin' Exhilaration' all the time, gotta dish rhymes Runnin' the joint, runnin' point, gotta dish dimes But not sacks, rather drop tracks to black wax That type sh** that be more hype than mad blacks Rush in yo' spot set to take things I never got Two or three albums to yo' credit but they wasn't hot Don't jock fools 'cuz you think that they be livin' cool In videos wit' these broke hoes and swimmin' pools Dancin' around on my set tryin' to catch wreck Smokin' on blunts, takin' forty hoes to the neck Blurry position, better turn off my television No time for n***az bringin' all types of negatism The industry is just filled with these fake cats Runnin' around with cigars and fedora hats f*gs in drag, brothers best check they manhood Rip out they lungs, so it just won't expand good 'Cuz I done had it with these phony rappin' freestyles Brothers be yappin' that they comin' out the penial The senile, you ain't never been in jail, black It be the Ras, give you more run than tailbacks Women be comin' out talkin' 'bout they co*kbox Some of these brothers rock rhymes, others co*kblock Chorus(x2) Yeah Dr.k**a, solo tip Shout outs To my man Silk To my man D-Money To my man White Chedda To the one k**a To my man Point Blank To my man k**a-Kc Detroit City To my man E.J. To my man J-Murda To the man Da Assa**in To my man k**a Kam Stones Throw nine-six Prepare Bring it on

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