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lirik lagu joyner lucas - round 2 k.o

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[intro]
yeah
uh, uh
you done f~cked up now, n~gga
joyner

[verse]
let me teach you how to terminate n~ggas on sight
little b~tch, you would never be at g level (bah)
i don’t care where you from or where you grew up
you will still get slapped with a tea kettle (bah)
you ain’t smokin’ on sh~t, you ain’t never been lit
i turn big smoke to a weed pebble
stop talkin’ ’bout hits and that platinum sh~t
lil’ ho, you barely went sheet metal (yeah)
let’s talk about how you got ran for your chain
it was curled on the floor like a leaf pedal
let’s talk about how you never grew up that hard
and your mama always pushed you to be better (huh?)
let’s talk about how your career fell off
and the sh~t went straight through the meat shredder (d~mn)
i’m mad that i ever heard your music at all
if i didn’t, i probably even sleep better
hey, f~ck this n~gga, i’ma spray with it (bah)
put a glock 19 to his face with it
always knew you was a b~tch, you was raised with it (huh)
now i know why your daddy okay with it (bah)
i should take your flag and burn that sh~t
give it back, then put you in a grave with it
how you gon’ steal a$ap rocky swag
and f~ck it all up and go gay with it? (innit)
you started it
i ain’t duckin’ no smoke, want all of it
want to steal my culture and talk your sh~t ‘case you mad that you can’t be a part of it
you don’t get no play, we ain’t bumpin’ it (nah)
facts ain’t never droppin’, no bombin’ it
you got the worst songs that i ever heard in my life
i don’t even want to hear n~ggas hummin’ it (facts)
oh, you bringin’ up tory, i’m lovin’ it (i’m lovin’ it)
they forgot my litty, went dumb with it (went dumb with it)
me and tory ain’t never had smoke
that was really my n~gga, we was just havin’ fun with it (okay)
from the black eminem, that’s a compliment (okay)
i’ma wear that badge, i’ma honor it (okay)
a n~gga sold like two hundred twenty million records
and i bet you done bought a whole lot of them (facts)
n~ggas mad at me ’cause i bothered them
’cause mama never told him she was proud of ’em (on god)
even n~ggas like giggs really hate your sh~t
he a real og, there’s a lot of ’em
you d~ck ride n~ggas and you fine with it
you got a lil’ cosign and you proud of it
and you’ll do anythin’ just to get a lil’ ovo chain, even swallow it (innit)
i hold big smokers ready to chief with ’em
better call the po and bring the police with ’em
bring enough heat to cook up a beef with him
wet a n~gga up and bringin’ a beach with him
bullet get stuck, he feelin’ it deep in him
p~ssy ass n~gga, i’m makin’ a yeast with him
a wagyu steak, i cut up a piece with him
floss on a n~gga and pickin’ up my t~~th with him
cough on a n~gga and make a disease hit him
bark on a n~gga, ain’t takin’ no leash with him
lock a n~gga out, i’m leavin’ his t~~th with him
lock a n~gga down and bury the keys with him
snake ass n~ggas that really don’t need venom
i’m skinnin’ ’em alive and makin’ a feast with ’em
n~gga need help, we bringin’ the streets with them (what?)
give a n~gga h~ll, i’m bringin’ a priest with ’em
i’ma send them to h~ll and i bet the devil’ll tell him
that i’m a demon who broke a piece of that heaven and fell
and b~tch, i’m a predicate felon
i put a sh~ll in your melanin
and everything i ever said up on a record, i meant it
how ’bout we talk about how many f~ckin’ records you sellin’
’cause even back up in your country, they don’t check up and listen
you only sold a couple thousand, ain’t no battin’ a seven
they gonna sell it at the counter at the 7~eleven
and when i’m finished with you, i bet they would never forget it
there ain’t a single motherf~cker who can stab at this weapon
i hate your accent and everythin’ you said in the record
i need subtitles to get it, i’m checkin’ the spellin’
i promise you that drizzy only one that would ever mention you bein’ a legend
n0body would agree when he said it
i promise you it’s gonna haunt you when you sleep in your bed
and i promise you that when it’s over, i’ma leave an impression of y’all
i hope you know the pressure’s on when i drop this sh~t ’cause you really on the clock, boy (what?)
i’ma write a perspective song from a uk n~gga who think he a top boy
since you wanna talk about influence, let’s talk about the female clothes you rock, boy (on god)
i seen you in an interview dressed like a b~tch, i guess you really a top boy (sheesh)
i catch him outside in the birkens store, the victoria secret shop, boy (okay)
take all your sh~t, then give it to my b~tch, she’ll love that drip you got, boy (godd~mn)
put the uk/us sh~t to the side, this is me against you, lil’ pop boy
clean up on aisle six, i done wiped this b~tch, somebody come bring me a mop, boy
i done turned your stuff to a crime scene
why the f~ck a n~gga thinkin’ he could try me?
how you do your n~gga wiley dirty, then turn your back on the uk grime scene? (on god)
you a snake ass ho, you slimy
you irrelevant, b~tch, you behind me (behind me)
i don’t even understand how you still got fans
i ain’t heard your name since the ’90s
i’m a hybrid n~gga with a high beam
turn the uk n~gga to a lime bean
this the round two k.o, you ain’t gettin’ up
better call the er to revive him
after this, i bet you wanna fight me
that’s the reason why n~ggas don’t like me
thought you was that n~gga when you talk your sh~t
now you sittin’ back wonderin’ “why me?”


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