Текст DJ Kay Slay – Undefeated
Текст:
Ransom:
All these rap niggas just sending threats
Got a nose for the money and scent of death
Red and Meth
Big bills put a brother on like Belichick
Last second left on the goal line
Labels never thought I was a gold mine
Landed with the pen with a gold mind
How your thoughts made of gold but you don’t shine
I’m a champ, got the belt on my waist
Leave em damp
You could tell on my ace
You can tell in my face
I been to hell with no trail of a snake
I been to jail with no bail on my case
Closed curtain
The flow cursed em
The most certain to go Kirkland
Two hands and they both hurting
I choke serpents. I’m soul searching
A cold merchant
My food for thought is for those thirstin’
Jon Connor:
In this mind it ain’t no finish line
Finish my business before I finish my sentence
I kill it. Even the witness cryin’
They feel each minute diminished
So fuck the critics
I wanna go down as one of the greatest who ever did it
I’m a Flint nigga so all that ho shit don’t compute
Send shots at me with words, I’m bulletproof
I’m from where niggas go to war over words and then they shoot. Fuck it and then they shoot, shoot, then shoot again
If the homies don’t hold em down say hello to they lil friend
And they load up the forty four, stick a fork in your lil friend
Consequnces when niggas living la vida loca pretend
I hate niggas, snake niggas, fake niggas
Them sweet niggas, cake niggas, wait niggas
I’m my whole different breed like David, Kanye and Bree
The Fly City’s on, y’all know’ the pedigree
Dave East:
Started with a building, now want a block
Started on a train, now I want a drop
Dodging’ rain they got umbrellas up in the Ghost
My nigga Snags put me on, now I want a Ghost
My nigga Max so potent, shit, he just wanna float
Know a couple felony niggas and they just wanna vote
Dead broke, Winter’s up in Harlem, I just want a coat
I don’t trust flyin’ shit across, I just want a boat
Mami in my ear, she like I want some coke
Lil homies down in B-more getting off the dope
You speaking a foreign language if you talking broke
Head shot, head shot, murder was all she wrote
Billie Rose for the hoes, I give them all the toasts
Did this shit right here from the projects
Nigga, we always broke
Now I play the cover of your favorite magazine
I can fully understand why these niggas mad at me
Only gettin nicer, might curb your cypher, I hit her every time
With a rubber but never wife her
Begging me for that raw shit, pull up on 1-4-5th
Heavenly Porsches with a dot that’s gorgeous
Just left the jeweler for some rocks that’s flawless
Columbian dinners, talking bout business with some bosses
K-Slay know that I’mma deliver godly. I tote Nines
I’m from the hood, need that Ferrari
