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Lyrify.me

Smokin Aces II by Tre D Crazi Lyrics

Genre: rap | Year: 2014

First things first, What up to Tripp and Dope Clique
They can kill a whole infantry with a simple bullet
What up Jax, shouts out to Overdose Gang
Nearly kill all competition, it's a comatose thang
Smokin' Aces 2, Grab Tripp & Jax like a case or two
Bag of that piff, let that acid rip, grab a glass and taste the fruits
Of my labor, cater to myself, keep shit sharp like a sabretooth
Break some rules like his face, your face, fuck it, even a vase or two
Life's a bitch but I know she's got mace so move
Give the crowd a little bit of AHHHH laced with OOH
Hate to do this but I'm passionate about my music, yeah these dudes are ruthless
A pair of shooters, a bullseye on the competition so fuck your shooters

Every chance I go in, knowing that there is no end
In sight, no chance of slowing so when that wind is blowing
I might, make the roof the floor until that bass hits the low end
Tonight, might leave this bitch smoking tonight, sm-sm-sm-smoking tonight

Smokin Aces 2, back on the track trying to raise the roof
Looking for a motherfucker, got the slingblade and the razors to
Carve my niche like a slick cold blooded son of a bitch
Just wanted a kiss, now I'ma run this shit til I get a shiv in my ribs
Looking at dinner, watch me enter, only giving it a minute to live
Success is iminent, just need the internet of degenerates to generate lift
Look easy to be a jobber til you see the dude can't work for shit
This opener bout to become the main event, killin 'em merciless
This is your first offense, It don't make no fucking sense
You must really not know what the hell you are up against
Looking tense, looking scared, paranoid that you ain't prepared
Painted red, I must inform you that there aren't no angels here
Angel hair, demon on my shoulder, I hope you came aware
That not one of your peers tonight is leaving here
Alive, only rock with my team, roll with a loyal bunch
Kings of the table games, laying down a full house or a royal flush
Jaxon-
I'm goin in like I'm base-jumpin, I wish a nigga would say somethin
Niggas hatin' Get Dish Nation'd, That's Headkrack'd, straight pumpkin'
Ridin round trunk stay bumpin, Snow Bunnies I stay thumpin
If I don't got it, I go and get it, Been the hottest out for 2 strait summers
I say it's music over everything So I stay on point like a bulls-eye
They too weak to touch my flow, I guess you could say they a fort night
And I'm one month So you have to be retarded for thinking you matching me
You actually about to be a casualty chopper blow your brains all on that half of the street
I blew up but who want this beef with a nigga I still bring it to ya
I knew ya before all this rapping you call yourself doing lil nigga, You still is a loser
If I run into ya We chanting out WorldStar, So you better run for your life
There's bout to be fuckery going down, Back up what you said on that mic
See this ain't bout proving nothin cuz I don't really got shit to prove
I'm a foreign nigga in a country that don't even want me, I ain't got shit to lose
But I'm still here, Freddie Kruger I en still fear
All us rappers started from the bottom, Only difference is that ya'll still there
Hashton Kush muh fucka

Tripp Shelton-
Tre D get the Swish lit, put it in the air
Gimmie a beer we fittin to get it in gear
Anyone who ain't already livin in fear
Better get cleared, or get fitted for veneers
The last nigga you wanna get pitted wit is here
Lyrics’ll have my critics in critical care
Acidic wit it when I spit this shit up in your ear
If I spit it to your chick, she fittin to get speared
I rule with an iron fist, I run DMI
This shit is my Tiananmen square
Bow to the throne pay homage at the feet of the belligerent
Ignorant, nigga wit the beard
Through the rearview mirror look at my career
Me and niggas get into it, then they disappear
You ain't heard Young Dream or Tripp Marxx in a minute
Muthafucka minute in years
I get rid of em, Im a menace to, society sinister
Imma ride til I finish ya
I’ll get high from the cries of the innocent then sit by while
They eulogize with the minister
Im headlights in the eyes of you venison, everything freezes
In the presence of the microphone Jesus
Otherwise referred to as the sleeveless genius
You muthafuckas are JV B- list
Im straight A’s Dean’s list with the leaflets
Suicide if this the team you pick a beef wit
You can get your whole team ripped to pieces
Labels ain't on my side but the streets is
Even if the prize out of my reaches
Shit on these emcees til they deceased
Die muthafucka die
Rest in feces