Drama (feat. Joell Ortiz & Game)

Music

Ay yo, where the fuck is that blunt at?

Why y'all **** hogging this shit, man?

Two pulls of that shit

**** start gettin' paranoid and shit

Get your feet off my fuckin' table, ****

Fuck, you think you at home? With your cheap fur on?

Shit look like it 'bout to bite somethin' and shit, ****

It was the night before he got popped

Big jars of Haze

Cheech and Chong bong in the spot

Tropicana strawberries, diced bananas, the long dookie fifth

Next to the Town House crackers, Madden on

2008, a G a game

I'm Ron O'Neil, the love seat sunk deep

Lil **** bussing off they punk heat

I'll make a massacre, try to rob one of my donkeys

But I ain't wettin' that

I don't wanna send nobody back, violate me, take a nap

Promise you got something, Lord that will honor you

Blow your lil head off while you're tying your shoe

But back in the kitchen, Pyrex's

Occupied by the twins bank robbers with large records, hard vests

86 got guards on

Benetton rookies and frames that fake guns when they rob shops

To them, that's natural actual, play the squib, dawg

We gettin' at you

And we don't want to rap to you

It's not Kosher

It's not a code of La Costra Nostra

To roast ya, I get a little closer

Rock you to sleep, like I got these little bitches come over

Hopin' you fall for the bait, thinkin' you safe

Had that ass sweatin' like TD Jake's

I want the ones, ****, you non-believers can ask yo' momma

Now that's drama

Dollar icy from papi with the scraper Glock with the laser

Tryin' my best not to pop yet but the drop is major

Shot my lil cuz, I do my aunt a favor, watch this

I never been this itchy, hope these cops just

Get a doughnut urge and just splurge, you got the nerve to play third

In a softball tournament 'round my way, say that's your word, you bird

I'll put your beak on a curb, but anyway

Looks like a good game, the pigs ain't leavin', so I'ma lay

Nice play, just too bad it's your last

Couple bundles of D and 200 cash

To sack you in the grass

So watch the teams line up, shake hands, guess the game's over

Faggot **** hopped in a Liberty fake Range Rover

I'm on his tail like Sonic, little shorty palming on a 40

Broad day, I'm tryna dodge a cover story

Look like he stoppin' for gas, I'ma pluck him, yay

This had to be his most unlucky lucky day

Two brothers come out of 7-Eleven in army wear and stand there

Actin' like my tires need air

He closed the gas cap, too many things goin' his way

So I just stashed that, you probably think I'm buggin', but hey

I know them games in Lindsay Park is every Sunday, he ain't goin' nowhere

I went home, switched gear, went out and grabbed me a beer

Ten drinks later, I'm at a Burger King window for a Whopper

Look left and see partner, I hid the stash, blokka

Who the fuck you think you is? Ron O'Neal?

Tat tat, what the fuck when that 9 milli peel?

Is it real? Realer than Pittsburgh steel

Ghost, pass the toast, these **** is daffodils

Got buck naked bitches, countin' half a mil, gloves on

Fully dressed bitches, watchin' them with they snubs on

While I'm in the kitchen pretending to be Raekwon

Watchin' Rachel Ray all day, I get my cake on

Fiends love me like a Drake song

Rep that Louboutin bottom in my back pocket all day long

Black Wall mafia, Wu-Tang Sopranos

**** steady pushin' keys, but we don't see pianos

**** steady pushin' Phantoms, we don't see the opera

**** steady rockin' dreads, you ain't even Rasta

Take your New Era off and reveal

The faggot **** you are, or your cap gettin' peeled

We out to Brazil, I know **** in Negril

That'd chop your fuckin' head off and throw it on a grill

Take the gold out your mouth and throw it in they grill

Send a finger to your moms and let her know that it's real

****, we in the field like Chris Johnson

It's 2010, how the fuck we get six Thompsons?

Top 10, how the fuck you gon' forget Compton?

Every rapper on your list will get their shit stomped in

I started soo-woo, I'm the reason for that five shit

Came in the game on that fuckin' Ready To Die shit

Sold 9 mil, ended up with some fly shit

Naked pictures, R&B bitches all in my Sidekick

How I be killin' the pussy should be a hate crime

Got a Blackberry, was gettin' too much Facetime

Back to fuckin' project bitches, now I hate dimes

All they want is money, my ****, I can't waste mine

I son **** like it's day time

Grey cotton Louis sweatsuit with the Ralph Lauren waistlines

Smooth as a baby's ass, and I got that baby cash

Catch me in the hood, same deals Old Navy had

Motherfucker