Letras Idioma: English Cantautores: Kejuan Muchita, Marlon Williams, Samuel Barnes, Shalena Nakita Bratcher, Christopher Martin, Percy Chapman, Shawn Moltke, Jean Claude Olivier, Corey Mckay, K Mochite, Freddie Byrd, Ryan Montgomery, Keith Elam, Kiam Holley, Albert Johnson, Nasir Jones, Jermaine Baxter, Asiah Louis
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Gang StarrBattle Letras:
What?
You wanna battle me?
Yo man, how much money you got?
What?
You wanna battle me?
Yo man, how much money you got?
I used to guzzle 40's and own a beat up Caddy
Since the hood still love me I turn the heat up, Daddy
I went to mackin' fly honies on the train
To straight relaxin' on the beach countin' money gettin' brain
Soon as you rappers get a chance you wanna floss a lot
You buy a iced out watch because it cost a lot
Then you in the club stylin' with dough
Profilin' with hoes we boned a while ago
You rookies haven't done enough laps around the track
You had one hot single but then your album sounds whack
Son, you bore me with your war stories
You ain't even do that shit, so that's just more stories
How you expect us to take you seriously?
The look in my eye, punk, has got you scared of me
I'm blasting your sons, I'm snatching your funds
You get your royal ass whipping, you been asking for one
About to slap rappers around and bruise the game
What, you what?
Be thorough to the end
Yo man feel the drill
About to slap rappers around and bruise the game
What?
You wanna battle me?
Yo man how much money you got?
Bitch, you don't even know the half about me
I bring it straight to your chest, ask your staff about me
I'm just a little bit older, plus a whole lot wiser
I might advise ya, or I might pulverise ya
I can visit any city, get respect in the street
While you're alone in your room, shit to death of the streets
I take a second to speak, I keep my weapon in reach
I ain't talkin' romance but you'll get swept off your feet
I keeps this Ghetto chick that loves to blast that metal shit
Groupies fake moves I get her to settle shit
You can't compare to this status right here
Legendary worldwide, we can battle right here
Listen junior, I'm a tear back your wig
This ain't TV but I'll show you what a Fear Factor is
Stop grillin' me
And all that frontin' is killing me
You leave me no choice but to hurt your feelings, G
About to slap rappers around and bruise the game
What?
You wanna battle me?
Yo man, how much money you got?
What?
Be thorough to the end
Yo man feel the drill
About to slap rappers around and bruise the game
About to slap rappers around and bruise the game
Be thorough to the end
About to slap rappers around
If you know the drill
Be thorough to the end
About to slap rappers around and bruise the game
You know the drill
You know the drill
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