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lirik lagu maino freestyles on flex (2016) | freestyle #020 – maino

[verse 1]
k.o.b. business, brooklyn
hustle hard, team mainy, y’all already know
black flag mafia
yeah, yeah, yeah
once born a king, i’ma die a god
these hatin’ n*ggas prayin’, hopin’ that i die tomorrow
my mama holdin’ me, my daughter screamin’ “daddy talk!”
my body cold, in the dirt they drop my casket off
but i’m a legend, live for ever, though
these n*ggas birds, couple sh*lls, watch these fellas blow
i call the play with my arms, four shots to his head
[?] the back like they cornrows
never backin’ down, k.o.b. is back around
these n*ggas talk till you rat*a*tat*tat ’em down
started off in a mess hall, waitin’ on that mail call
foxy brown poster on my cell wall
now they idolize, i’m just who they got in mind
then f*cked every bad b*tch on my timeline
who they playin’ with? i’m on that same sh*t
last night, me and [?] wanted the same chick
don’t say a word, n*ggas know me
two shots, dealin’ juugs in my coat sleeve
they ain’t gangsters, they aim to be famous
fell asleep, woke up feelin’ like pappy mason
you more like rayful edmonds
i move like ryan perry, kinda scary, man you n*ggas ain’t ready
chasin’ with the semi, he was runnin’ then he tripped
bullets gone, turned the gun around and beat him with the clip
brooklyn so unified, i enforce that
fifty*fifty love, never change and they know that
gmg shooters [?] my b*tch back
the choppa out, spinnin’ ’round like its six flags
[interlude]
it’s all messed up now
flex, what they gon’ do now?
k.o.b around

[verse 2]
that’s them lames in the background speakin’ out loud
with they eyes on the throne, want a shot at the crown
got a mind full of sick thoughts
for my homies that decided to skip court
f*ck jail, bail money in the go yard, drug dealer go hard
see me in a bent, but i treat it like a go kart
it’s easy to see when you look at me
another reason that you should be shook at me
i was on them corners when you couldn’t be
police was on us so hard that we couldn’t breathe
how you stoppin’ em? pooch got the glock on ’em
black bandana tied like pac and ’em
the ak, pistol grip, no stoppin’ em
my wolves know it’s lunchtime, we been watchin’ ’em
r.i.p., no love for ’em, hands up, ,still shooters when we run for ’em
funk flex said “it’s on!”

- maino

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