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Correct Blood Lyrics
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Your Old Droog
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Correct Blood
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[Sample] The name of the song You ready up there? The name of the song is.. [Bridge] Blood, blood, blood You're just a parasite sucking.. Blood [Hook] Blood Stop My bread and you gon' shed Blood Have you in the hospital needing Blood On the streets, on the snow you'll see Blood Nah I ain't a crip or a Blood But through the years we dropped tears, sweatin' Blood In my veins flows ice not Blood To be this nice you gotta sacrifice Blood Sell your soul like Robert Johnson or something (who that) [Verse 1: Your Old Droog] I'm sort of like an old blues player Guitar case in the a ride, and I stays with a slide Dumbed down every lyric, I'm adaptin' (why?) So it can bump in these hoods that even Eric would get clapped in Who would've thought you'd see a car passin' blastin' the captain Droog made it happen, where fools be trappin' And jewels get yapped in Them dark blocks is where the crime blotter crew lurk They'd rather memorize gang codes instead of school work My droog got jumped in, told me it's my turn (what?) I'm cutting all this class so I won't have to learn Said you gotta scrap for 3 whole minute Son handed me lessons, I gave 'em back like a backwood with a hole in it Used to cop a bag of green, had females scrolling L's I ain't talkin' 'bout the magazine But we ain't pullin' from the same spliff She might be herped up I roll my own when I'm lighting that purp up Pay a goon I just met to kill So chill Kendall and you'll only get a Gill I got these mash out techniques from my OG in the ville Lil Fame: (Ayo come here let me talk to you my nigga) Then steal, spill [Hook] Blood Stop My bread and you gon' shed Blood Have you in the hospital needing Blood On the streets, on the snow you'll see Blood Nah I ain't a crip or a Blood But through the years we dropped tears, sweatin' Blood In my veins flows ice not Blood To be this nice you gotta sacrifice Blood Sell your soul like Robert Johnson or something (who that) [Verse 2: Your Old Droog] Gotta practice an illuminati ritual Won't do it for the skill But I bet to get rich you will Kill your own family member for fame And do more foulness so they remember the name On the low, your captain never gonna blow Bout to set it on you, troops wanna know What happens when you get rocked with a bottle to the side of your head Blood shed like Children of the Corn, God bless the dead I rock a Coogi to the show But fuck Bill Cosby he never gave me any Jell-O dough My man Elmo got the beats and elo for the low Other producers can eat the yellow snow Saw what I did with potential, that's untapped While you stuck in that one trap, stuntin' Puntin' off fourth down they don't wanna snap Artists got no guns like a blunt rap We're not from the same mold I used to come home with bleedin' knuckles and blame it on the cold Every week I had the studio (blood) Now I'm on UK and Paris flights, y'all some parasites suckin' [Hook] Blood Stop My bread and you gon' shed Blood Have you in the hospital needing Blood On the streets, on the snow you'll see Blood Nah I ain't a crip or a Blood But through the years we dropped tears, sweatin' Blood In my veins flows ice not Blood To be this nice you gotta sacrifice Blood [Verse 3: Your Old Droog] We used to get herbs for they pack, make 'em cough up bud When you thought that Newports made you cough up blood See a lot of men fall to the powers of menthol Try to get away like Orenthal, I did Like the glove ain't fit, I must acquit Every time I get the urge I just suck on a tit Droogs don't eat the box [?] [?] through with a chick harder to pull than American Spirits I know broads who preach celibacy then sell pussy In some parts of the world it's a delicacy, they slangin' Bangin', like my son who's Hoover, damn You drug dealin' rappers didn't move a gram Also that conscious shit is a sham Cats play that humble role then step to hoes like "you don't know who I am?" When they don't, get heated and leave The people should feel cheated and deceived Hold up, let the beat breathe Fuck your packin'-mad-syllables rap I'll just start rhymin' like Busy Bee Still get busy, B, I'm a relic They say I sold my soul I got no soul, how imma sell it?
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