Skyodi - Jersey/mexico lyrics

[Intro] [Verse One: Angelo Mota] We don't have anything in common Even my atoms are unique, and you should be embarra**ed that your last tape made me vomit I'm bad as Michael, pa**ed the Eiffel on my travel up Following my steps would take some ma**ive guts, back when Backpacking was what my rapping was, now it happens to get these ba*tards right back to backing up, 40's and ashing blunts Face was ashen and mad as f**, the higher being's The only one that can see me so I go laughing and smack a judge (Judging my past and such) Only absent from cla**es once, asking for bathroom pa**es after I grab my stuff (woo!) As a freshman, I always was eating breakfast Now to present time and Angelo's barely eating his lunch (damn) Crazy sh**, I carried spliffs so my friends would see me a bit Now cigarettes I'm tryna' quit Momma' told me Nicorette was for a b**h So like turkey and my soul, I'm probably gon' quit it cold Spit's like getting a cold, you sniff and cough and you moan, but Getting over the symptoms made me dope as whole syringes, please Quote my manifesto, cause now I'm getting forgetful 90's baby, missed the retro by a decade and some change All my friends are all estranged, but I'm over it, plus It's not like anybody changed, it was like that from the get-go [Hook] I shot from the hip like Plaxico k**ed the rap game, took the first bus to Mexico (tu sabes) [Verse Two: Angelo Mota] I'm the rap slayer, better pull your pant legs way up Realization of Schwarzenegger running for mayor I know that I could run it soon, I'd probably do it better so Why be a sheep when I can f**ing k** a shepherd? (Whatever) I see your subtle diss tracks, I'll let it rock, but Now verbal missiles burning holes through your leather Cause sure you got the quip that could get a throat to slit But switchblades ain't sh** when compared to Beretta's Holy Ghost, to me, is colder than November But believe, Ang is really dry ice in December I bet the foo's fighting is pretenders And if you don't get that, well then, get your head up 7-up, ain't no use for a heckler Cause the splitting pain that I'm bringing to your ears is secular Tell these sickle cells to step it up, whipping with the best of People from the west of, Orange if you aren't then you Probably shouldn't flex bruh, turn your sh** the color ketchup Never stand next to us (RECKLESS!) [Outro: Angelo Mota] The cop's gon' catch me anyway, so I run it from Mexico to Jersey You heard me? The cop's gon' catch me anyway, so I take my reckless sh** right back to Jersey You heard me? Jersey to Mexico [good life]