Suga Shaha - Belfast b**h lyrics

[Verse 1:] Woo! Yeah, first solo single off the bat I made my own f**in beat when I hit the pads Made my own lyrics shouts out to English cla** And now you bout to hear what I do with my f**in rap! Woo! Lupe Fiasco my role model Food & Liquor yeah I call that sh** my own bible And I ain't really got a half-decent lookin rival f** what y'all think the winner goes to MC Tadpole I lay it down and I hit the gavel The case is dead, f** with me and I hit the hammer I chat sh**, only bang I got Was a bang of fame, and a name on the spot n***a you would get dropped, the first day on the job If you ever tried to join the dope game on lock You wouldn't even make it past 24 on the clock You ruined my beat, now you getting the charge, Woo! [Hook:] Yeah, Neapolitan we hit the spot We gon ride to the top and you gonna fall Say ya last words cause all you ever do is speak You can't rap, you ain't real, all you do is steal! Uh, I'm k**ing this Belfast b**h Said I'm k**ing this Belfast b**h I'm k**ing this Belfast b**h You shoulda thought about your choices when you took a hit! [Verse 2:] Spittin like I'm twista my speed only gets more iller I bust a rhyme and I'm chopping like Tecca Nina the god But my music ain't very strange so I guess I'm more of a Hopsin My options are getting wider my chances are getting higher Climbing up like a fire that be burning like a lighter But I never dry to bits because my flow so f**in wet Like a benz that be hittin speeds of a 100 miles an hour Or wetter than all the water that be comin outcha shower Outta this world like Andromeda flippin astronomer you cannot honestly Think that you've gotten me bought like a soccer team makin a mockery outta my honesty Yeah I'm a prodigy I'm always pondering how to get gardening growing my pottery Making the strawberries little more watery without a watering can Using autonomy outta my armory's comin a battering ram or a battery Burning my enemies thinkin they talenty so I just gotta be k**in with modesty Kinda ironic here bragging with modesty but I'm so fast that I'm k**ing the prophet he's Losing a war to me magical fairytales strong as a barrier speedin like autorails [Hook] [Verse 3:] It's insane how the game lost it's reputation to lame Motherf**in wack-a** rappers who couldn't even sustain Getting disses all they do is talk about they private planes And the gains on they b**hes who twerk the whole f**ing day It's a shame… reviving a dead genre Flows so bad they mix it and autotune it all up I be makin lyrics that get ya head all caught up I be just like Drizzy getting my game all charged up I just wanna know why you thinkin you winning Rap's about the meaning not the beat, just ask slim Hear his lyrics and you'll know what's really real with this sh** Go to old school pac, man you know what it is Know what's the bizz, f** around get thrown off a cliff Reppin big on IG but you bend on my dick You been awfully quiet, were our bars too sick? I think this Irish motherf**er just can't take a diss! Woo! [Hook] [Outro:] Yungh sh**-a** prophet you better not get yo a** back on the track cause I know you ain't got what it takes to mess with us! You've thrown more shots on your instagram than yo diss record! And you got like what, 4 instagram posts? b**h n***a you can't touch us, Neapolitan's hotter than your mom! Hotter than yo songs! We got it goin' on! n***a you can't touch this 500° we burnin' yo white-a**, go back to Ireland you gon need a lucky charm to f** with us n***a