Prod. By TaeBeast - Live In The Basement lyrics

(Prod. By TaeBeast) (Verse 1) Twist my fingers till my dreams come out the blue Come out the booth feel like I spit about a thousand truths They put the battery on my back since then I had the juice Bad boy since Diddy, your triumphs without a fluke From Twin Cities to Harlem, down to Compton's Zoo Wear gold chains to rock the noose, that's strange fruit Swear they pick your pockets too, used to cop a baby deuce Stashed in the dash of my coupe, subtract the roof Vinny the Villain currently reeling in currency been preaching Writing letters to Hebrews, pullin your b**h like Scorpion Beat that p**y up like Ike did Tina baby he yes Never regress, keep my wordplay street like kids at recess Ghetto activist sipping Actavis, who fathoms this OG with Olde in my chalices On the run with savages aiming for your cabbages Bringing pain like sodium to knee caps with bandages Words like the sword in the hands of Maximus Baby nine I brought to Show and Tell, pop the clip and shells It ain't hard to tell, always excel, conniver raising hell I never fail ya, rap like I'm flipping keys no sympathy Murder symphony, pistol grippin, pistol whipping stick it In a politicians mouth, poke eyes on my beanie Been leaning on the Glock like Pac did Afeni Cops on my jimmy, f** the system, case you didn't know Edgar Allan Poe smoking O's, shooting darts at posters Marks of posers I despise next in line next to my closet of Decomposing foes, beautiful demise, i'm writing night and day Like the Rat Pack, ten pints in my backpack, with your dame She got great brain mad intellect, and she popping Percocets I'm just getting my bread man i'm Detroit Red slipping X X em out, skipped cla**es but grades were up to par Composing cla**ics blowing smoke in the face of Mozart Bogart the game kid doper than Pookie veins Got a couple redbones under my belt like Pootie Tang Up jump the boogie mane give em the blues no Tookie mane Whipping through suburbans in a black suburban hit them curbs And bring the work to serve em, Master Geoffrey, at your service This here yomper big as Mister Marcus squirt at pussies lurking Leave your crew dispersing coroners wrap your head like turbans Got yo family pouring Bourbons, you gone have to see the sermon Rap surgeon writing verses with scalpels, cold as George Gervin And i'm bout it bout it like Percy Miller in ninety seven No doubt about it, been k**ing em since ninety seven Barber rap taking wigs off, over the head of overachievers Pool of sharks bite your limb off, you a follower or a leader?