What Lyrics - I'm Just Corey - Corey

I used to get feels on a bitch 

Now I throw shields on the dick 

To stop me from that HIV shit 

And niggaz know they soft like a Twinkie filling 

Playin the villian 

Prepare for this rap killin 

Biggie Smalls is the illest 

Your style is played out, like Arnold wondered 

"What you talkin bout Willis?" 

The thrill is gone, the black Frank White 

is here to excite and 

throw dick to dykes 

Bitches I like em brainless 

Guns I like em stainless steel 

I want the fuckin Fortune like the Wheel 

I squeeze gats till my clips is empty 

Don't tempt me 

You don't want to fuck with Biggie 

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Here I am, I'll be damned if this ain't some shit 

Come to spread the butter lyrics over hominy grit 

It's the low killer death trap, yes I'm a jet black ninja 

Comin where you rest at, surrender 

Step inside the ring, youse the number one contender 

Lookin cold booty like your pussy in December 

Nigga stop bitchin, button up ya lip and 

From Method all you gettin is a can of ass-whippin 

Hey, I'll be kickin, you son, you doin all the yappin 

Actin as if it can't happen 

You front and got me mad enough to touch somethin 

Yo I'm from Shaolin, Island, and ain't afraid to bust somethin 

So what cha want nigga, ya punk nigga 

I got a six-shooter and a horse named Trigger 

It's real, ninety-four, rugged raw 

Kickin down your god damn door 

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Fuck the world, don't ask me for shit 

And everything you get ya gotta work hard fot it 

Honies shake your hips, ya don't stop 

And niggaz pack the clips, keep on 

two, comin with that Olde E brew 

Meth-tical, puttin niggaz back in I.C.U. 

I'm lifted troop, you can bring yours wack ass crew 

I got connections, I'll get that ass stuck like glue, huh 

No question, I be comin down and shit 

Yo I gets rugged as a motherfuckin carpet get 

And niggaz love it, not in the physical form but in the mental 

I spark and they cells get warm 

I'm not a gentle, man, I'm a Method, Man! 

Baby accept it, utmost respect it 

Stop look and listen 

I spit on your grave then I grab my Charles Dickens 

Welcome to my center 

Honies feel it deep in they placenta 

Cold as the pole in the winter 

Far from the inventor, but I got this rap shit sewed 

And when my Mac unloads 

I'm guaranteed another video 

Ready to die, why I act that way? 

Pop Duke left Mom Duke 

The faggot took the back way 

So instead of makin hoes suck my dick up 

I used to do stick-up 

Cause hoes is irritatin like the hic-CUPS 

Excuse me, flows just grow through me 

Like trees to branches 

Cliffs to avalanches 

It's the praying mantis 

Deep like the mind of Farrakhan 

A motherfuckin rap phenomenon, plus 

I make it hot 

Nigga touch me you better bust me 

tree times in the head 

Or motherfucker's dead, ya thought so 

Fuck the world, don't ask me for shit 

And everything you get ya gotta work hard fot it 

Honies shake your hips, ya don't stop 

And niggaz pack the clips, keep on 

Fuck the world, don't ask me for shit 

And everything you get ya gotta work hard fot it 

Honies shake your hips, ya don't stop 

And niggaz pack the clips, keep on