WILD OUT 2K - Channel Live



Verse 1:]

We be the live ones

You dont wanna try son

Cause the rhyme come

Like a nine gun

You can die young

Hide lungs

Til the seventh sign come

Shine son like a diamond

I'm harder than one by one

Flew flicker, Crew licker

Shoot quicker, Loot getta

You cant handle this cause im the truth nigga

The haze puffa, Stage crusher once the wave crush ya

??? while im fuckin ya baby motha

The back of my right mind terror lines

Devil stays higher than the crime rates

At Five Burrous

You spit yo best shit

I spit mines an get arrested

Murder one rhymes killin shit write yo death wish



Well its the herb wanter shotgunner

Hot like summer

Parked like a Hummer

Off the hook like no other

Scale triple stage went from Marcy figga nigga

Bigger than most but still look at where stick up

Dutch smoker, Blunt smoker flippin like a broker

Dope when I pull it quick to draw like poker

Hoe getter go getter like my dro wetter

Trunk full of kill we could all smoke together



Chorus 2x:

If you got a hundred dolla bill throw ya hands up

If you aint afraid to peel throw ya guns up

All my niggas smokin to kill throw ya blunts up

Roll em up, Throw em up

Roll em up, Throw em up



[Verse 2:]

Hey yo we build to destruct with the raw un-cut shit

Us spit rhymes tight like hancuffs get

Niggas say they on some I dont give a fuck shit

Bust chicks, Bust clips

Like they cant get touched with



Well its the party rocka, poon rocka not Silkk Shocker

Put Master the P in an airport locka

Wife, Daughter macka, Behind that ass slappa

We open up the show like niggas typical roster



Niggas cant see us cause they station aint adjusted

Destined to be burried in gold like King Tut did

Niggas rhymes is ass cause they full of enough shit

Need to bow down an pray while the god touch this



Hey yo fuck lyric for lyric lets go show for show

Give us 45 minutes Channel Live takes all ya doe

We got the live show strap sacks of hydro

Never bring sand to the beach hide ya hoe



[Chorus 2x]



[Verse 3:]

Dont let the god blast

Here with the math illegal broadcast

Spit something way outta line an make ya car crash

Rhymes comin fast like the first time I saw ass

Make a nigga jaw clash

Tryin to steal my raw ash



Now its the legal broadcast

Lightin it down like calm cash

With the Henny and Bomb Hash

Hot flash, When she let me palm ass

Imma long ass let me hit that ass sprung fast



Hey yo we settin niggas up like when the 3 strikes law passed

Write deep scrpits and prophicies like a the law has

We bringin fire like the cops guns draw fast

Dope rhymes I stop guns like Utah has



Well its all about the ass, cash and last clash

My niggas got flags on poles half mad

For Loumia, Diallo, Rodney King, to my nigga Rallo

If they follow, Hit they ass up like tips hollowed



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