Boss Hogg Outlawz - Freestyle (Track 15) lyrics

rate me

[talking:]

Yeah, these niggaz ain't fucking with me (yeah)

They know that by now though Rayface, (yeah)

Run it nigga (oops), Kyleon (yeah)

Killa Kyleon, for those that don't know (yeah)

All Freestyles 3, the truth is in the booth cocksuckers

[Kyleon:]

I guess, they didn't expect this

To hear a nigga that's reckless, coming from Texas

Make a false move, I'm putting a gun to your necklace

Better step up your game, and get it back in perspective

Didn't boys tell you, I'm the wrong nigga to mess with

I got a mean track record, your ass shoulda checked it

Like a virus on tracks, I'ma finna infect this

Let me put it in lane terms, Kyleon finna wreck this

Everything I spit's a hit, you better collect it

Go work on your raps, try to perfect it

I'm the nigga you jamming, when haters try to eject it

But I'm jamming so hard, they can't even try to neglect it

By your favorite rapper in Houston, I'm highly respected

While your shit's weak in the streets, highly rejected

Be careful, Kyleon's the wrong nigga to plex with

You don't wanna get your neck hit, soon as the tech spit

I got a nice aim without thangs, it's a direct hit

The game's prolly full of traffic, I'm finna direct it

With hard flows, no whip I'm not fin to pyrex it

Knocking niggaz out the game mayn, they ass finna get sick

[Slim Thug:]

Slim usually the nigga, cats shoot they down low caps at

But you ain't never hear me, shoot no down low caps back

I'll call you out say your name, and see where your raps at

Bring the street to your streets, and see where your straps at

Boys better get a map, and see where the North of the map at

Cause I ain't hard to find, nigga that's where I rap at

That's where I shine where I grind, that's where I stack at

I keep it popping in the hood, like I'm a black cat

Me and Killa bout scrilla, them other niggaz lack that

They'd rather chase hoes, so they can pay to go pack that

That's why I sick these hoes on em, so I can get back that

Slim a hundred percent hustler, these other suckers act that

I keep a glock on me, matter fact Killa pack that

You suckers get out of line, he gon rat-a-tat that

I'm not Lil' O or Big H.A.W.K., but I need you to back-back

And give me fifty feet, 'fore I blow you hoes hat back

[Sir Daily:]

Cause Outalwz spit bars, that'll scar the track up

Pull out the ESV, and make you park the Lac truck

You niggaz broke, I'm on the grind to stack bucks

Rolling with my gat tucked, cold as Alaska

From the ice in my jewels, rims slice when I cruise

On top up in this game, I paid the price for my dues

So these Hogga, fin to step on toes

Treat a mic like a bitch, when we wreck our flows

Watch for rocks, my neck all froze

I ball 24/7, off the checks I blow

So don't think, that I'm easy prey

I might pull a K out, squeeze and spray

You flat line, if you trying to jack mine

Clinch and bust the Mack rounds, bet you haters back down

It's rag time, so you fin's to go to sleep

I drop bombs on the track, Daily fin's to blow the beat