Manic TL - Jeff Hardy lyrics

{verse i} Really on a dash how he came up out of last It's funny he gettin’ money he was bottom of the class If i say to breathe fire they'll be swallowin' the gas And they ’prolly wouldn't stop until the bottom of their glass She show me that she bad, im'a slap her on the ass Take her home, and tell her to hail a cab on the ave Everybody trash so i laugh when i pass They think that im goin' mad, their just not about their cash Flash cs on her bag, flash gs on her belt Flash bs with her fingers, you would get it if you're real Give em somethin' to feel or somethin' to understand Everybody got a method, i did it without a plan Im stack it to the ceiling, we breakin' rubber bands Down shorty got an ass so fat that i don’t know how she dance Damn, i’m on the road with a band And a bucket of cocaine, so i'm usually slammed sh*t, i do what i can, jamin’ in the crowd with some fans Or out with the crew in a lamb, s*uts two to a man Getting crazier than they should but badder here than the lands And if the ruge ain't in my hand, still got it tucked in my pants fu*k you in advance, i don't see nothin' outside the score Try to climb in my mind, you’d be terrified out of yours Defile with no remorse, their claimin' they want a war But underneath it their too b*tch to step out on their fu*kin' porch Like livin for yous a chore You swore on all your everything everyday how the fu*k'd you turn off course? I took it with brute force, and only me to endorse it Came in and we motherfu*kin torched it {hook} I get it at all costs since back when it popped off Its the swanton bomb, i'm droppin' off five floors You ain't ever been raw, you never been top dog If you got to where i'm at then you'd 'prolly get knocked off ('prolly get knocked off) {verse ii} You never doin' sh*t that you could Though honestly i'm never really doin' sh*t that i should But you and i can't be compared, don't get it misunderstood If you don't believe me, its easy, we'll leave it up to the hood New york city, whats good? Shouts to north manhattan and brooklyn and the bronx And to queens and staten My soldiers whats happenin' My killers keep clappin My hustlers stay stackin' Take it to the bank laughin I make my money and pass it to get more money the fastest And im'a never retire, i'll die before doin' that sh*t I'll die before ever crashin', some people tell me thats bat sh*t Theres a lotta sh*t to call it, i choose to call it a passion Dont know how to be relaxin I keep it out of mind 'specially since times paper, theres presidents on the line Just peep me through the vapors, i'm livin' in so divine Grind 23 and 1 but i love it where i reside Risin' and then i ride and shinin' the way i fly Y'all are a dozen a dime, a hundred million of a kind Maybe some of y'all are fine, but that is generous and at best You got to where you got because you studied off of my tests {hook} I get it at all costs since back when it popped off Its the swanton bomb, i'm droppin' off five floors You ain't ever been raw, you never been top dog If you got to where i'm at then you'd 'prolly get knocked off ('prolly get knocked off)