Studio Freestyle 01 - clipping.

Uh, yeah, wassup wassup

Alright, new shit, uh, yeah, uh

Who really tryin' to fuck with destiny

Kitchen full of chefs without a recipe

Kitchen full of knives and scared of weaponry

Kitchen full of naps, ain’t never sleepin'

Up to slaughter motherfuckas in the evening

Top of the morning

Out there, morning with a casket full of coffee

Sprinkled over pure Colombian

Kept your training, hope they don’t go dumb again

Catch a flame and watch them all go numb, amen

The pastor do with Hail Mary the gun again, unh

I am the son of sin, the son of Sam, iambic

Then board the plane to Belgium for the lambic

Board the plane for Pakistan for panic

Pour to drain the packet in the jewel case in the jacket

Jack attacks refund and smack it

With a bar code on a bitch throat

Go hard though on a bitch though

When a bitch go where a bitch go

Where the bitches at, where the dicks go

Where the raw low, where the new tec

Where the mil or don’t shoot yet

But do bet will make a crew wet

Will make a grown ass motherfucka two-step

Steppin' out on everything

Step up, step up, step on over to the fuckin' rain

Get your weight up, wait a minute, motherfucka sang

Canary yellow diamonds redefine the kind of bling

Every time they come around you say to kill 'em all

Kill the noise, kill the beat, assassinate the bar

Barbarian, no hesitation, fuck it, lay 'em all

Down for the night

Tell 'em the sandman said suck it right

Fuck your dream up like a…

Huh, yeah, get that new album