Squab or Talk

Song Description

Let you know where we at, and asking you where you at

Song Length 4:02 Genre Rap - Dirty South
Lead Vocal Male Vocal Mood Heated
Language English Era 2000 and later

Lyrics

Verse 1 Serious
Now when was the last time you heard a nigga flow so ferocious/
I spit that hot stank shit, you could say I got halitosis/
You can?t see me nigga, you might as well, quit trynna focus/
I bust that light, and when it shine, niggas scatter like roaches/
You run from me now, but shit, you?s the one that chose this/
I don?t know if you know this, nigga, but yo flows is bogus/
And me, I?m the rawest nigga yo ass ever seen/
Treat you like the rest and put a peep whole in ya chest G/
Load up them hollas, and I?m darin niggas to test me/
I?m from the Ville nigga, so you know it ain?t no bitch in me/
You can run, you can hide, but there really ain?t no ditching me/
I keep a nine, and two extra clips with me/
I go head up with any nigga, and you know this/
You gone give me my respect, cause I ain?t no hoe bitch/
I?ll go get, the four fifth, and blow shit/
I can tell you a bitch nigga by who you roll wit/

Verse 2 Posqualy
My weakest point is that I don?t lie, see these people imposters/
They stroke their own eagle, they fake, if you believe um they got you/
But I can spot you, reveal you like tits at a freak nik, if it?s concealed/
I uncover it and then get a deep peek, it?s so obvious can catch you from peripheral view/
I notice garbage that?s indirect yet specific to you/
Plus you so pitiful, you critical of niggas that?s fake, but you fictitious/
Oblivious to real niggas ways, and I don?t play that, don?t demonstrate on me when describing/
Or I?m gone imitate a crome plated nine when it?s guided, and get to bussin at your mouth/
You gone me or have it, and that reminds me of how that blood stains on fabric/
And poof like magic, he gone and can no longer blab it, now I can kick it with my savages and broads that ain?t average/
I go through hardships nigga so I?m sippin on liquor, liquor like scissors snippin my liver, tryin to play this hand I was givin/
By certin chances circumstances, can you stand this understand it?s not what you see on your t.v/
Most thugs ain?t rich believe me, get found in sea weed or somthin, black hoodie and gloves/
That last thing you ass saw, when you body was shoved/

Chorus Vision, Posqualy, Furious, Serious x2
What ya?ll really wanna do, squab or talk/
Think I?m really scared of you, not at all/
You poppin lip like you a fool, what?s wrong wit ya?ll/
Come at me, I?m bustin at you, problem solved/

Verse 3 Furious
Now, I may sound like a hethean this evening but believe me/
Consequence of trigga squeezin got a nigga layed out and bleedin/
With Teflon lodged all up in his chest region wheezing/
Caught a hot one in his neck, now he thinking that he?s dreaming/
On my green guys, his ass shouldn?t have been scheming/
Niggas on the corner ain?t the only ones fiending/
Cause my four fever?s dying to start screaming/
And unleash a deadly legion, knockin out you niggas spleens/
And rearrange ya chest cavity, witness the pump, BUCK BUCK/
Make em defy gravity how Fury manifest casualties/
It has to be, a nigga that?s livin lavishly, with tenacity/
And the mental capacity to even fix his fuckin mouth if he say he could rap with me/
But gradually killin niggas that?s after me, and actually, your man passed the gat to me/
Told me to do em Fury, that?s the way it has to be/
What you call that?
It?s a tragedy/

Verse 4 Vision
These boys in the south get hellafied rowdy/
Don?t come around if you soft like downy/
And don?t come around here poppin ya lip/
You got twankies on ya truck, we?ll take that whip/
Let you know these boys real from the grill to the feet/
Creep up on ya real quick, be in ya passenger seat/
Let ya face see, not just one but two barrels/
Ya meet them, ya come fat but leave narrow/
I?m off the hinges, sick like syringes/
Flow is tremendous, I came to win this/
Ask ya self, who in the hell could stop me/
I slap box with grizzlies on top of the Rockies/
Ya?ll don?t want it with Vision, have ya body parts missin/
Wakin up a quadriplegic with a catheter pissin/
Betta remember the name, V-I-S-I-ON/
The southern Trojan, got the industry open/

Clean Clean

Clean Clean

Artist Name
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