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lirik lagu sit down – onlyone

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[intro]
oh boy!
you might wanna sit down
go ahead, kick back!
take your g-y–ss skechers off or whatever you’re wearing!

[verse]
when i k!ll beats, i feel sentimental
writing verses like essays without pens and pencils
i will special-ed you, i recommend you
quit pushin’ my b-ttons, you won’t make it past the second level
spit in god’s face, b-tchslap the devil
you put your mouth on the chopping block, saying it’s accidental
my gun at your temple
you thinkin’ you iron man but you’re just wrapped in reynolds
and all your raps is gentle
your heart is itty-bitty, i keep it nitty-gritty
i’m pretty busy, on the grind, but not a 50-50
you think you a bad boy, but you would let your shine get taken
he ain’t just diss diddy, did he?
i roll a blunt and let the day begin
yeah, we sandpeople, but nah we ain’t arabian
out my whole crew, i’m the craziest
yeah, you make money, but i make more like sapient
i’m insane in some parts of my cranium
breakin’ into a mercedes benz with a safety pin
i do drugs that k!ll my brain
but make songs that build like cranes
and hold guns that make people stand still like cranes
i keep it real to the day i die
and don’t expect no one to feel my pain
i never feel ashamed, i can show you how to k!ll the game
i’m h-lla high and i ain’t have to build a plane
i won’t get into spe-cifics, but i don’t give a f-ck, b-tches
christians won’t f-ck with us? f-ck christmas!
every day’s a holiday: lots of cake, pot that’s laced
with dustin hoffman, i stuff my stockings
with work then let the money fill up my pockets
if there’s a f-ckin’ problem
then they got dirt on their shoulders
and the street sweepers gon’ brush it off ’em
what you sellin’, game? that sh-t is h-lla g-y!
the chopper loud as helicopter propeller blades
puttin’ holes the size of a wedding cake
in the side of your escalade, you fightin’ a heavyweight
don’t let me hear no scrawny comments
i hop on the scale with gun, gun with bodies on it
i should put the mac-10 down
it’s like cameras, ’cause the hammer adds 10 pounds
for every mac-10 round, that’s a year in the state can
’cause they’ll put your face on the wall like a spraycan
if i don’t know you, we don’t shake hands
you ain’t no gang member, you saw that sh-t on gangland!
you could be as big as 50 now
anybody, no matter how big, can get k!lled by a .50 cal
bladed up, the sog’ll cut a kidney out
blaow! who run the city now?
ain’t any rapper that’s seein’ me
compared to compet-tion, i am on a different frequency
onlyone here to crush all your worldly deities
if you hear that and you don’t know what the meaning be
then i’ll speak in terms you can understand easily
i smoke tree and make money illegally
the best spit like this, minus the seasoning
the pipe leave you lifeless right in your gmc
you got a thousand pounds? why ain’t we connected yet?
i’ll put you out of bounds, go out of town to collect the debt
y’all george bush, more shook than an etch-a-sketch
but i ain’t scared to play with the metal like an erector set
silver bullets, k!llin’ wolves and members of the secret service
just to make sure my trigger’s workin’
explicit verses for you to misinterpret
honestly, poverty done made me a bitter person

[outro: illmaculate]

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