lirik lagu dlyan - project 2
verse 1 [dlyan]:
your man was hard: at least till i popped him
records are copped the same second i dropped ’em
that b~tch was too stiff, it’s no shock that i rocked ‘im
c~cked the glock and straight up often
they scoffed then i hit their top and then they quit
with their b~tch sh~t and flat out admitted
the kid in the biz is the director
i silence these lambs like hannibal lector
the wiz has got the tricks out the wazoo
they check or, checker, chicka chicka
check, or gеt cut
before you get splattеred, raw dude
core gut slit
poor sl~t b~tch: disaster
the laughter as i leave the scene
after popping two in your bladder
motherf~ckers really want me madder
but it’s chad or
dylan
straight facing the k!lling
just happen to be best in the building
but so few are chiller at chilling
i just know just how you are feeling, it’s ill and
it’s dylan, it’s a sp~ce eclipse
lord willin’
this kid comes at me with macy drips and way slips
and catches a quarter magazine and flips
take tons of trips to the beach in new york city
oh but that’s not even where you get busy, now is it?
you with it? i’m wit it
now is that sh~t bit or are you just a twit?
first try to go at the elephant
you ignored for a decade
i’ve made gold since half of ya men’s age
so yeah you’re h~lla bent
a bit cut up from the swizz blades
it’s decadent; how i slice ya with a sl!ck phrase
so how do the d~ck taste?
cause straight chick crazed
ggget me a quick raise
cause the ssssh~t pays
hits the ceiling cause of the dealing
leaving waves of these fish reeling
i’m teal and
gold and black
and red
i smack they fold, they wack: they dead
street cred is incredible
all these rappers’ words are indelible
you don’t cross dlyan if what ya got on ya plate’s edible
i cut down a p~ssy from the rope that he hung from
the things this n~gga’s seen can never be undone
i run their guns for fun
smack the b~tch make him blow the gat
let him run some
then throw the serrated blade in his back
b~tch i made it pro ace and i’m back
smack the daft cat
rated gold and it’s black
i’m told they attack cats that walk around with the straps
k!ll a flower if he got half ass raps
the drought is over
i take a boulder; blast it into wreckage
cliffs of dover, and past
so these p~ssies want to come at the last?
bludgeon and bruise the mask
scar the face so they’re placed in a casket
at least what left on their head or body
after all, there’s no ducking the shotty
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