Separate Myself - Intro Songtext
von L'A Capone
Separate Myself - Intro Songtext
How you leave your mans dead for a broke bitch?
Most of these rap niggas on some ho shit
How you leave your mans dead for a broke bitch?
Most of these rap niggas on some ho shit
How going to school gone teach more shit
And the teacher said I wouldn′t be shit?
Most of these rap niggas on some ho shit
How going to school gone teach more shit
And the teacher said I wouldn't be shit?
L′A Capone speaking, man. Team 600. Niggas know how I'm coming, man. You know, I just gotta separate myself man... from all this fufu shit. It's a lot of fufu shit going on round here, kid. You hear me?
How you leave your mans dead for a broke bitch?
Most of these rap niggas on some ho shit
How going to school gone teach more shit
And the teacher said I wouldn′t be shit?
I guess I′m just stuck on that street shit
Niggas mad cause we ball on that Heat shit
And everyday, I pop out on some flee shit
I love designer, that's me, shit
How you talking to hoes ′bout bro and 'em?
Why you talking to hoes ′bout bro and 'em?
Pillow-talking, we gotta expose him
If he got them oz., then we poke him
L′A too real, you can't clone him!
You ain't talking no bands, then don′t phone him
Two-tone chrome under the True shirt
Try to go on a date and get your boo hurt
I don′t like no dramatic bitch
So I just separate myself from shit
If you post up, I hope you brought your kit
Cause I'm wounding cats when that chopper spit
Lil Dee in the trap, pop out, Glock out
He′ll kill 'em, I ain′t lying, heard it from the horse mouth
Can't walk through the Six, you a Brick, another route
Hit a stain for the shit, made it flip, another house
Young nigga hood, but I′m trying to make it out
Meanwhile, these guys trying to get clout
Riding through the hood, we let 30s hang out
And if he ain't Double-O then he can't hang out
Fuck talking tough, nigga we can bang out
It was raining out when my mom put me out
But I don′t understand what the net beef ′bout
It's a drill in your hood so nobody hang out
I ain′t never heard 'bout a top-notch bitch
Some raw little chick who ain′t did no dicks
So when I get a check, put ice on my wrist
Got a whole lot of shit, nothing for a bitch
My name hold weight so niggas wanna kick
Call up the lean man, need another six
Get another stain then do another hit
Slide on the O, get a yop, now I'm lit
We don′t tolerate bitch-ness
Sneak diss bad for your fitness
Let's get this, hit your block up, leave no witness
25 shots, that's Christmas
Got a handful of niggas on hitlists
I made this here for the bitches
And the snitches, and the lames
Brick nigga, stay in your lane
Only so long ′fore a nigga get changed
All the opps wanna put dirt on my name
I′m a still be the same, you can keep the change
Ain't too many young niggas in the game
That can say they ain′t never been a motherfucking lame
I watched these niggas get bitched by the gang
It's levels to this shit, man
R.I.P KING LA CAPONE
Most of these rap niggas on some ho shit
How you leave your mans dead for a broke bitch?
Most of these rap niggas on some ho shit
How going to school gone teach more shit
And the teacher said I wouldn′t be shit?
Most of these rap niggas on some ho shit
How going to school gone teach more shit
And the teacher said I wouldn't be shit?
L′A Capone speaking, man. Team 600. Niggas know how I'm coming, man. You know, I just gotta separate myself man... from all this fufu shit. It's a lot of fufu shit going on round here, kid. You hear me?
How you leave your mans dead for a broke bitch?
Most of these rap niggas on some ho shit
How going to school gone teach more shit
And the teacher said I wouldn′t be shit?
I guess I′m just stuck on that street shit
Niggas mad cause we ball on that Heat shit
And everyday, I pop out on some flee shit
I love designer, that's me, shit
How you talking to hoes ′bout bro and 'em?
Why you talking to hoes ′bout bro and 'em?
Pillow-talking, we gotta expose him
If he got them oz., then we poke him
L′A too real, you can't clone him!
You ain't talking no bands, then don′t phone him
Two-tone chrome under the True shirt
Try to go on a date and get your boo hurt
I don′t like no dramatic bitch
So I just separate myself from shit
If you post up, I hope you brought your kit
Cause I'm wounding cats when that chopper spit
Lil Dee in the trap, pop out, Glock out
He′ll kill 'em, I ain′t lying, heard it from the horse mouth
Can't walk through the Six, you a Brick, another route
Hit a stain for the shit, made it flip, another house
Young nigga hood, but I′m trying to make it out
Meanwhile, these guys trying to get clout
Riding through the hood, we let 30s hang out
And if he ain't Double-O then he can't hang out
Fuck talking tough, nigga we can bang out
It was raining out when my mom put me out
But I don′t understand what the net beef ′bout
It's a drill in your hood so nobody hang out
I ain′t never heard 'bout a top-notch bitch
Some raw little chick who ain′t did no dicks
So when I get a check, put ice on my wrist
Got a whole lot of shit, nothing for a bitch
My name hold weight so niggas wanna kick
Call up the lean man, need another six
Get another stain then do another hit
Slide on the O, get a yop, now I'm lit
We don′t tolerate bitch-ness
Sneak diss bad for your fitness
Let's get this, hit your block up, leave no witness
25 shots, that's Christmas
Got a handful of niggas on hitlists
I made this here for the bitches
And the snitches, and the lames
Brick nigga, stay in your lane
Only so long ′fore a nigga get changed
All the opps wanna put dirt on my name
I′m a still be the same, you can keep the change
Ain't too many young niggas in the game
That can say they ain′t never been a motherfucking lame
I watched these niggas get bitched by the gang
It's levels to this shit, man
R.I.P KING LA CAPONE
Writer(s): Charles Jerome Jr Taylor Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
