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Correct Rum Nitty Vs. Shotgun Suge Lyrics
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Correct Rum Nitty Vs. Shotgun Suge
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[Round 1: Shotgun Suge] I'm like an O.G. to him, I do him gruesome Like, "Lil' bro, where'd you get the bars to face me? You must've grew some." Beasley like, "Show him the ropes Jimmie, noose 'em (Newsome)." We got the insane Crip vs the big Grape, the big baby Let's get one thing straight, I straight jack niggas who think they crazy You holla for me, you must be punch drunk pass insane he dumb nuts .40 cocky and it's buffed up, lean on him, this nigga Rum got me fucked up I'm on the turf where he bang at, lift the gun Small shot, his men'll run, I'm hittin' one I'll put a buck in a Quarter like a nip of Rum Aye Smack, when this is over we gotta speak Me and you, got a lotta beef I asked for top shelf, you give me Rum? The shot was cheap Headshot, I'll blick the semi I'll pull up in his mini city, where Rum at? Knife in him, let's get down to the Nitty gritty I outweigh him by 250 I throw these they too swiftly IQ I'm too witty They said they want Crips to stick together but we ain't want you Nitty (unity) Oh you Crip Cornell? They call you "Insane Nelly" they get crazy cause you here? Guns, I got 'Air Force 1's' and Nelly get two pair You know how I rock, you can't hide from me Search his block, search his spot Catch him, 2K's green beam, it's a perfect shot I let the Dessy blow, I'll kill ya whole fuckin' family, you already know One word, I'll drop ya niece at an R. Kelly show Had this nigga Nitty 'bout to dumb out, hopin' that she run out Have him throwin' rocks at the studio beggin' her to come out I'm disrespectful, you said half of what I say, you the type to get mushed for it He pussy, the .40 got the douche for her Battle rap reaction, say somethin' crazy and get pushed forward Gun Line King, he think of one of them gun lines he gon' gain glory Yeah, 'til one of them gun lines turn into a front page story I dunked on you vs Twork, I do what I want, I'm big Crippin' Fifth grippin', big clip in, lookin' for a reason to kill him I'm Nit' pickin' Out of all ya brothers, you the lowest (Lois) one; Chris Griffin {Stumbles} I'll pull up shootin', like I catch it off the pass Beasley, you better pick his box out before I catch it off the glass Y'all know he heard me I ain't got no motherfuckin' slogan; Jersey [Round 1: Rum Nitty] We got Rum Nitty vs this big bitch Suge That's a bad look, nah scratch that, this Cuz Webb vs Shaq Suge Why you try? You jumped out on me first my nigga, here's where I reply and it's time to die So let's get one thing straight...ya vital signs I brung out my pistol, it's supposed to be cool I don't wanna have to slug out my nigga, you slammed on me first With that dunk now you trippin' Nigga pull Shotgun out in a bar, went out like Blizzard You said I line and shoot, with one 90 too (192) The shot Everclear, about to send you off to the highest Proof I'm goin' in, they don't think you gon' win Not even a little Shotgun; .410 You 'bout to get all the smoke and take so many punches The fans yellin' "Get off the ropes!" I'm wit' the shit, of course I'ma talk it .50 stink, Glizzy grip, I load it and off it You were standin' with the ops when me and Twork got it poppin' Dancin', all in the videos, Suge was The Source of the problem Nigga who fake? Before I lose my cool, wait You gon' respect my Crippin', or I go off, beat you 'til you got a Blueface Make ya mind up wit' it, 'fore the shit really Escalade and you see niggas slide up grippin' Try me, I'll line the .9 up, lift it And the barrel two feet over a Grape, that's how ya wind (wine) up nigga BAOW! Matter of fact, you can't even hear the steel Silencer, that shit didn't even whistle; Emmett Till Bitch stop it, we clique poppin' Ray Gibson, we 'bout to lose this shit watch it Big chopper, post up, been wildin' Got 'em! {Gotti jumps into Suge} I alley oop Gotti that's a rim rocker! ....then I tap his pockets! Gun'll be in ya face, Da Vinci System Hi-tech machine, have him doin' surgery on a Grape You fake, I come out to where y'all reside. clap the shit Abacus, doin' numbers every time I slide You'll fuck around and die rollin' wit' Suge The nigga not gon' ride If BIG and 'Pac taught me one lesson; never take Shotgun's side Fuck nigga, I'm low key with the sub grippin' TEC-9, Colombian necktie, I come out the cut lickin' Gun clickin', one Smith & If a Crip pull across ya face; submission You ain't ready yet, Kalashnikov heavy set And I'm puttin' bodies on the chopper; med evac For real a vet', that's a bet 'Cause I done really put that time in Shotgun...more than Bellichek Smokin' shit what I be on Why? To be Frank, Nitty ran wit' Al Capone (Kapone) Bitch you can't keep it real yourself Nigga suicide or I'll do the job; kill yaself [Round 2: Shotgun Suge] Yo, I be all in the west coast with the Sig' firin' Dunkin' in L.A. like Shaq not retirin'! What he don't know I had his baby mama chillin' on the block today Gun Line King, sound like some shit Tay Roc would say Yeah, this a bar fight but I get a man Trained like I grew up in Pakistan Rum light, Drunken Master, show him the kick; Jackie Chan Shit come from 'round my waist like a pot belly Stock heavy, T-Top say he ready, but not ready I told him this K will Shine, T (Ashanti) and drop Nelly I'm in tune wit' Nelly, gun out, I don't tuck the slammer It's goin' down down baby, on sight, fuck a camera Street sweeper cocked, read to let it go; Country Grammar Rum Nitty better watch what the fuck he talkin' Better yet, he better watch where the fuck he walkin' Code word "Squad" What the fuck that mean? Put him in a fuckin' coffin I'm at ya bitch crib, kick the door, pop the levee "Where Rum Nitty at?" "He 'cross the hood." This is not a Chevy She don't wanna talk? Cock the Dessy 'Put It In Her Mouth'; Akineyle Watch the clock, ladder got the .40 lookin' like a quarter after six Pistol whip, take Rum to the head, he won't walk a straight line after this That .40 I had against X, I'm back wit' the same gun I air a zone (Arizona) in his area and send him back where he came from Thought I couldn't rap wit' him, these fags doubtin' I kill for a fee, I be cash countin' I'll wet ya family up, the Mag' shoutin' We in Disney, strap on the kid; Splash Mountain He ain't got no choice but to die when I'm liftin' the strap Semi'll clap, this smoke will get his body high like an Indica pack I got bars, this beyond they hate I'm in Phoenix, big man, first round pick; Deandre Ayton He don't like I'm in his hometown, I don't follow rules it's not pleasant I got my MAC-90, .40 Glock, I brought my arsenal (Arsonal) let's have a Duel In The Desert He gon' die here period You said it yaself Suicide I'll do the job, for thinkin' you a Don Cornelius You ain't no motherfuckin' Don, you speakin' Yiddish This about to take Rum back, this nigga finished Bull dogs a savage and it's British Big cap on his head, splittin' image I'll steal Rum off the bar, this is pillage You want a gun fight? He want a gun fight with me? {Stumbles} I'll send hollows, play witcha life Cross the gun line, the biscuit popped and the MAC follows Y'all know he heard me I ain't got no motherfuckin' slogan Jersey! [Round 2: Rum Nitty] We brought in a couple MAC's, niggas won't live up in here Since we make this a dunk contest, I got a perfect...10's everywhere It's nothin' to go in, you touch me I smoke shit, untuckin' a poll then Let it buck you provoke them Now, can we get some silence for Shotgun? No Country For Old Men The shit in my hand blowin', blue flag around the Mag' loccin' Fire shots, hydro shot come out the can' smokin' I'll pull off the waist clappin' fast on him Beam, spot a purple mark in the face, ASAP and Yam on him You get a bag you try me Y'all see me spaz on IG Callin' out the whole game, Madden 19 I do more than punch, y'all seen that cold ass dunk Y'all ain't think I could rebuttal, there's a couple tricks in the arsenal (Arsonal) you don't know Shotgun You not finna clap me, I'll pistol whip ya shit, when the butt lift; Dr. Miami I run in wit' the .8, I ain't leave it in the whip neither I brung it up on stage, fuck wit' another nigga state Guns, in an Obama mask, that's an Arsonal in another nigga face Them real Grapes do not respect you You gon' tell the people how you went down to Watts, and they really pocket checked you? Niggas jacked him he too lame In Jordan Downs, they held you up, Pippen after the Flu Game Use ya brain stupid, 'fore I point blank range shoot it Suge'll (sugar) pour our 20%; Frank Lucas I've been where you niggas chilled Above The Rim they reppin' Watts in Jersey 'til the Birdie shoot out for real I keep shells ready, give you everything the 12 carry You asked for this, fuck around and got yourself buried Now they sayin' prayers heavy The arm I got for Shotgun go long; hail mary And you don't get killed urgently, you a thief, you steal verses And you gon' get the steel versus me Hold up, hold up, hold up, you took versus from a legend that's the type of shit that'll get Suge murdered I could burn him, got somethin' for a Grape, in the nose; Good Burger Get fired on, everything 'bout you fake, especially how you fire chrome Scary niggas can't hang wit' the gang, am I right or wrong? I would have to at least see a little heart (Hart) in Shotgun for him to Ride Along Aye, I'll pull this tre out and pop it Took the serial numbers on the tool off The stick scratched like a cue ball Stay out the pocket! [Round 3: Shotgun Suge] I said the difference between me and you? You a lil' homie you ain't got no pups Gun Line King, you ain't got no pumps No ain't never slide on nobody, you ain't never pop no trunks Man all you do is write raps and cuff sluts The difference between me and you? You had a job but have all these gun lines in ya rap I had Escobar dreams, I turn my grandmother house into a trap I wrote my raps there and that's a fact Three rounds? I was really cookin' crack while cookin' crack You talk that Crip shit, I really live that Crip shit I'm from the side of the world where you gotta worry about the cops, the Bloods, Crips and the niggas that switch cliques Wait a minute, ain't you one of them niggas that switch cliques? You was 4th Quarter, Writer's Bloque, Team Homi, now you Team Crip? Gotti I don't know how you fuck wit' him, he set flippin' Who locced you in? How you turn cuz? You set trippin' Where I'm from, loyalty is a must He another 6ix9ine, we call him "Danny" Aye Geechi, I don't know how you do it, but the real Gotti would've killed him for switchin' families I knew you was pussy since we met, you playin' a dangerous game; Russian Roulette Don't ever question my loyalty for the rag All the pain and the sufferin' for the flag All the dead folks, respect his Crippin'? Baow, he get a Blueface and that's on the dead Locs What his life like? While he was beatin' on his girl? I was beatin' on his girl She even asked me for a fight I could've spent the weekend witcha girl Mossberg 500 the top pump If we was in jail together, I'd make you sleep on the top bunk Glock dump, ladder, got a couple bodies on it, the stock jump Big ass ratchet, it's cookin' him Head shot, his top what it's cookin' in Entry wound got me lookin' from a different point of view, outside lookin' in {chokes} Jersey [Round 3: Rum Nitty] Aye, y'all remember in ah, ah, Bad Boys 1 when Martin bugged out? "Man if you don't sit yo' lanky ass down. Bottom line. I will knock you the fuck out This shit more than rap The pistol, German issue I'll put a body on the Luger; torture rack Of course I'm strapped If Shotgun play, stand back, seven yards, before I snap Or take a long hike, I don't wanna see y'all die So tell Red man (Redman) "head out" or I'll show him there Iz A Darkside Blaow! I'll lay you down Toss somethin' the size of a medicine ball for tryin' to throw ya weight around The aim pro' good, I can't miss the man I'm finna hit Newsome (noose 'em) up like it's Rosewood I'm finna yolk Suge Go upside his head, whippin' Shotgun at will (wheel); driver's ed Bitch made nigga, tryin' to suppress this big K spittin' Silencer, so now it's just a little loud, slim Dre Dennis I get to wiggin', but niggas hatin' So if not the 30 I'll take the 2-1 (21); immigration You won't be back for good, don't think I'll squeeze that? I would .45, the coat on Shotgun, jean jacket Suge BAOW! The heat get popped, I raise one and shake a Grape up with the .5 Give him three up top BAOW! We get pistols in by the dozen Just got a little mo' Hawks (mohawks) in; Indian In The Cupboard Don't even start him, Nina sparker BAOW, get a giant bald head; Tiki Barber Whatchu got? Packs for cheap? Well let's play a game, when's the last time you saw Shotgun trap a ki? I lift the Mag' This shit? Violent, get close to purple Blaow, magenta splash Where Magenta at? Who you had winnin'? Well you gon' be in need of clothes you're (closure) goin' for Jimmie, Jaz (Jimmy Jazz) I wish he would go to the jakes If Jim' (gym) rat, we liftin' iron, doin' pull ups everyday Catch him at the red light, hit his head twice They lookin' at his autopsy report thinkin', "What his dead like?" Bitch, you can't keep it real yourself Suicide or I'll do the job, kill yaself
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