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J.r. Writer - 9 Minute Freestyle Lyrics

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9 Minute Freestyle by J.r. Writer


The dog is still up to toss supporting a cut for cost

I'm lost in another source come talk to a underboss

No matter if I sell l still be in jail hell

Cause even my Pel Pel snorkel is butter-soft

It's the dude with the eight-oh make you chew the potato

I'm just the ruthless of ruthless -- your best move is to lay low

I come through with the [inaudible] QB on rainbow

Jesus head on chill ill blueberry halo

I'm back to the raw creep; my back to the wall peep

The hard show of condos relax down in Wall Street

Still bagging for sure cheap

Plus walk around with a bag of dust like I've been vacuuming all week

See I smile -- wild I'm fly child

Shop til I drop ock they loving my style

No less than five thou'

So you better be talking the hair over your eyes if you ever say that I browse

We maneuver yes -- do it wet through the West

Stretch no less than a stupid x

I lay the truth is left uptown to dust down

My man Buddha Bless got it like the buddha fest

But also trust me they all so dusty

I been eating well -- got a little gordo husky

But the broads all love me

And keep a Barbie that'll make you swear you ain't seen a meaner doll since Chucky

Regardless the artist there's no one as hard as R

Try starving but pardon R you can't harbin a monster pa

R is too far from y'all

In other words the cat with the squirrel is out of this world

A Martian with bars from Mars

I'll target your entourage

Larkins will part your mob

Gotta get exotic whips -- you ordering R&R

I floss up in foreign cars

Drop six Beretta rim topless way before them little white girls in Mardi Gras

Hardy har -- hater I laugh wave around cash

This paper is major player; I save some in stash

They stay on my... grain in the dash

Gators I flash; fresh yes -- my fitteds come cased up in glass

Dag I been better; biz cheddar

...the cash you gasser

She'll be down south faster than M. Betha

The limb stretcher a.k.a. chin checker

Man this rap is just too real for Vendetta

Heifer who is this hard?

You is retard thinking you could move with the God

I found a boo I menage; she picked her boobs and her bra

A student she Cuban -- her father into Cuban cigars

And ma always down holler

Brown 'pala S.S

Fresh-dressed -- chrome wheels chrome grills; sounds proper

The town mobster who gave all the town toppers

Club tour bus down to the Crown Plaza

Yes this the freak; sex for a week

Sex til I peak skeet skeet mess up the sheets

Neck to her cheek or next to her cheeks

Yes this is another executive at the executive suite

And g'ing them was nothing keep up with your buzzing

Remember night times and had to re-up with my cousin

Broke day -- shit we had to be up and be shuffling

Couple pies kinda like the pizza in the oven

The streets were just corruption measly and disgusting

Triple goose hit the stoop heated my construction

Ki's that I was hustling -- one for ten two for twenty

Steve Martin I could get em cheaper by the dozen

Pushed for my own bread took it from known dreads

On the hot block ock I'll push ya with chrome lead

Cats who fronted got wooden or chrome legs

And just pistol-whipped and now look like the Coneheads

Listen doggie chill -- I'm a boss for real

I want the house in the villa ill on the hill

So I'mma dog my deal give it the scorch you feel

And be on billboards til a cat bored with bills

Try hurting me you'll wind up in infirmary

Nursery burgandy certainly emergency

Punch to the face if it's a damn smirk I see

You know [inaudible]

Hey pal sit in a ditch trip where you trip

Squeeze the five -- need a ride? Give you a lift

Chickens just flip when they see the gliss in the wrist

Don't talk back but they keep giving me lip

I'm sick which be effing with me

The G fronting I see I leave stuck in a tree

Please I will have you ski cuffed to a V

And drive your stupid ass across the G.W.B. see

Yes dude sane; Tec do aim

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Source - http://www.kovideo.net/9-minute-freestyle-lyrics-jr-writer-1263273.html

Bloaw bloaw get you slain -- guess who's blamed?

Me -- I'm the bad guy who fly in that stretch new Range

With TV's like a Jet Blue plane mayne

Yeah you're man's bragging

No more damn cabbing

They didn't stop for me when they saw my hands flagging

Now you tan-bagging cause your pants sagging?

You ain't a boss -- you dorks sit on the bandwagon

And that's just half the matter

Who sicker badder?

Ask about me -- I wave around the biggest dagger

Ask about yourself -- you're the biggest slacker

Stop admiring mines and go get a swagger

You doziered me -- I'm someone no one could see

You're broke as a joke

My rose-gold get freeze the lowest degree

Darn so much boogers on my arm

You would swear I wipe my nose with my sleeve

So the birds roam; word homes

They want my cell hell

Pager e-mail then my work phone

Damn a chirp tone cause straight up

The Jacob got it looking like I copped a wrist full of birth stones

Those are rocks for real -- I cop on chill

I cop on hill rag top DeVille

I got a deal so I ain't gotta deal

But I'mma still take out ten and go cop some krills

And have my cousin stretch

He gonna double yes

Bring out the hoopdie put away that bubble Lex

Any sucker step I'mma just rush his neck

With two toys rude boy -- I get nuff respect

It's nothing to J to leave you stuck where you stay

Have you clutching a trey you'll be ducking a stray

The lust how I play

When you're nice and up-and-coming everybody got something to say

It's either "You sound like him" "You're wack you're silly"

You're too tall too small fat or skinny

He bluffing he shaking or

He gonna grow up to be nathin'

With not enough education

That's why I stay up and be pacing

And yell eff you gonna love and hate him

If you don't love me you hating

Not a jerk sick as this with words ridiculous

He's only nineteen -- I got birth certificates

I know you mad as hell you ain't never pass a cell

Come to bing you just sing like Pat LaBelle

And you wack as hell

Listen chimp -- you ------- still would stink even if you used Vagisil hell

The chickens sit and yell

I'm sickening you smell?

And glistening you tell

Plus I still will hit your whip up with some shells

That'll throw your V in the air quicker than Pharrell

I'm way in the zone Dikembe Malone

These small guys are small fries leave this player alone

You ain't waving on chrome

Any casualties this fag'll be at the academy

Like "Here's your statement Mahone"

Don't mistaken me homes

For all this gray in the stone

I still squeeze a trey and let em lay in your bones

Eff if you lift weights or you tone

I'mma empty and throw the pick in your face like Razor Ramon

Uh let me hear a raise in your tone

Prick I kill

You gonna need a semi-steel

Come to bricks I move em semi still

And get the weight off faster than Trim-Spa will

My nills I don't get weed in the gone

But I might go get some weed when I'm gone

On the beach had a reef keeping me calm

With a bad Waikiki freak in some thongs

Who can't wait to breath on the bong

It feels good to walk past palm trees with trees on your palm

Then hit her twice in the morn

And see how all these player haters want to beef with the Don

Cause VVS in my charm from my sleeves to my arm

23's on the lawn I just sleep on the yawn

Cause admit it you ain't never seen nobody this sleek since the Fonz

So don't confuse the beast

For all the losers creeps

If you rich prick we got tools and heat

And take everything down to your shoes and sneaks

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