Slam Pit Lyrics - Beatnuts

"I'm hard to kill, for real, nigga guard your grill", Cuban Link 

Yo, yo, Yo flip mode is how this nigga roll, finger on the trigger low 

Quick to lick a shot for that bigger pot of gold 

Lock and load, my heavy metal rock and rolls 

If you gotta go you gotta go, that's part of the show 

My heart is cold like a Nautica, nailin' niggaz like carpenters 

Stalkin' the hardest squadrons, spark 'em from New York to Arkansas 

Watchin' the projects is how I got my logic 

Economics is pickin' pockets, then we split the profit 

The only shit I pop is what my glock spit 

Watch for the cops, since we spark the chocolate 

'Cause the blocks are hotter than the fuckin' tropics 

In topless bars, college girls with no bras 

My whole squad got blow jobs, smokin' Godfather cigars 

Live large like Scarface, parlayin' to far place 

No car chasin', she's watchin' all the stars in space 

Safe and sound in my playground, with my tre pound 

Got eighty rounds just in case, clowns wanna play around 

I lay it down for them non believers 

Them non achievin' niggaz that wanna be leaders 

But can never beat us 

Y'all better greet us if you ever see us 

(Word up) 

TS, Beatnuts, double up but grab your motherfuckin' heaters 

Slammin MC's on cement 

The beats, the nuts 

Got you froze like gun point 

It's the hard little pistol packin' 

It's the control freak, leave you with a whole in your cheek 

Worst attitude in rap, Ju stay in the streets 

I gotta eat, the only thing I'm playin is keeps 

Your beats cost a lotta money but they sound real cheap 

You sound weak, anemic, like you get no sleep 

Fuckin' with me, you outta your mind? Get outta your Jeep 

Ya know I'm gonna beat you till the police come 

And tell niggaz who the fuck I got that Roly from 

Psycho Les, yeah, ugh, what 

Jump out the Rover and let you know its over 

And grab you with a crowbar and snap you in a coma 

Drug you with my music son, you'll never sober 

While your chicks on my Boeing on a leather sofa 

Chillin' there, iced out billionaire 

In war clothes blastin' as I blast led through 

Your Versace wardrobe 

What, motherfuckers 

Slammin MC's on cement, ugh 

Common Sense, Common's tellin ya 

Picture a king with heater, holy book and big rings 

Real nigga doin big things interpreting dreams 

Off the Jim Bean, ain't shit sweet for sixteens 

My gods got the block sewn to the inseam 

I'm on the other side, trying to get green 

So I fash and trash that ass at least a day 

Warrin' with self I battle, the Middle Eastern way 

Bring heat like the months, that's east of May 

Casket in the road and saw a new school that knows the old 

This memory I hold the scroll, my flow is a road less traveled 

You rock, but been through less gravel 

My mystique suggest battle and what have you 

Rip a nigga from New York to west coast, Chicago 

Don't give a fuck where he from he'll get beat like a drum 

Till this rap goes numb, seekin' the hot Medusa from circulation 

I strangle this string music and suffocate a drum 

Wanted to be a star till I seen I was the sun/son 

Got my weight up like Pun 

Improvise to get ass, emphasize to get passed 

Fuck a mic check, I bring my flow in cash