Ricky Conaway - 02100 lyrics

f** bein' on that chill sh**.. R-I-C-K-Y.. Uh, Mr. Ricky in the cut hoe If ya see me I recommend not to run slow Automatic high, but it's tricky and you must know I ain't never put in any sticky in the blunt though Slip into the front door, tippin' up on one toe Gotta keep it quiet or I'll trip and let the gun blow I be puttin' work in every night until the sun go Up and then I sleep and do it all again once more, pronto Nod your head and start clap along I roam around and scope a town like I'm a vagabond I'm makin' magic with every track that I'm rappin' on But I ain't even grab a wand, I'm pa**in' at the crack of dawn Ya hear that? the smack, was the a**a**in gong So if you're wise and you're a rapper better pa** along If you ignore me you'll get more than just a battle scar Better insert a tac if you wanna know where your a**'ll spawn Cause I'm like Gordon on the final lap Every rap I have is worth more than a designer bag All these guys are bad, super borin' and it's kinda sad Give it bout a year and we won't be able to find they a** Put em in a body bag They sleep deep, forget about an insomniac You better backup, but I ain't talkin' Johnny Man hit wit that karate hand All these dead rappers got it lookin' like it's Zombieland, got it man? And we focus on survival 0 to 100 boy you know it's in the title Lemme say it all again so I can get it in your head If they ain't dead yet, these rappers goin' suicidal I'll never slow until the final day I fall into the coffin I'll be flowin' on arrival b**h I'm hard I'll never soften They be smokin' in a cycle call it Marley wit a Harley I be totin' wit a rifle and I'm sorry you're the target and I'm itchin' Quit it wit the snitchin' and the b**hin' Even all the richest wanna be in my position but I'm broke So what's that gotta tell you bout Ricky? Thanks a lot for waitin' as I try to sound witty In 2012 I started doin' this for real Nothin' on my side I told myself to get a deal So I'm all up with pen and pad, every night a late night Walkin' into Weber's ask me how I feel, still I know Im kinda ill I'm gettin' sicker every single second That's a signal homie try to find a different method I'm tryna deal wit everybody while I'm independent Spittin' filthy and there ain't a frickin' disinfectant Takin' a rest ain't on my schedule Gettin' straight to the point, decimal Uh, I'm nothin' less than professional b**h I am just an extraterrestrial When it comes to rappin' y'all are nothin' but illegible So I don't have a choice, I gotta be very skeptical But I guess it is perceptual f** it when I rap everyone in the game is edible ("I am the best in the world") My wallet still is pretty paper thin Rap to make a milli sh**, enough of all the labelin' A lot of rappers play pretend, I came up in the game went 0 to 100 real quick call me Chamberlain.. f** bein on that chill sh**.. "Do I have everybody's attention now?"