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T. Mills - On Da Spot lyrics
I mentioned success, right?
 I tell em, I used to give a shit
 Now I don't give 10 less, niggas want shows
 Applaud for em, as I impress and inject threats with twin techs
 Your kin's next, my niggas hit the bar
 And park you with the guards
 Who got the bench necks, I been fresh
 Yes, fuck G's, your bitch ass the way out I told her "suck seed"
 The problem with the league is that niggas don't want to perish
 They nervous, Cory get em discouraged
 That sort of verse died in that Beem and Suburban
 His sort of wording, you probably see him in a turban
 Disrespectful, fondling your beam while she nursing
 I'm lyrically perfect, fuck it I said it
 Mirror me worth it, a good look made it clearly and certain
 Hold me to the age of your favorite regardless
 I'm favored by the starvers who make their targets the product
 This lil' nigga got some nerve, you think you Jay?
 Nigga save your thoughts, think yay
 My niggas pop Xannies up in nannies
 On you cross-dressing trannies
 On the 4th, Wessons go off at your fannies
 And I want every cranny, and I'mma be grit
 For every Grammy, and I did it with shit, not even Mammy
 You hear me?
 Had to let that bitch breathe... 
 Fuck it, let's suffocate her cause I waited long enough
 I'm on this nigga's heels, I'm just waiting on the cuff
 Threw it to him smooth, but it blew it through him rough
 Pull out some shit Suge-height, jerk like Puff
 Toughs like bluffs, bring the uptight stuff
 Fight what? I fuck fights up
 Abrupt dice luck cause a nigga Niks scuffed
 Corrupt heist bucks cause a nigga life cuffs
 And that's how I write stuff, making niggas bite dust
 Aiite, what... 
 I'm rapping like M, Jigga, Kool G
 A pinch of Fugees, grouped in Nas and his kufi
 My group the groupies are like wet bottoms to roofies
 You can be the new G, seen first in that v-neck Coogi
 When that tech loogie, hacht-pooie
 No lock, just pop and drop like Huey
 These haties' ladies see me coming on that kaka doodie
 To me, you sushi, chewy and tooshieT. Mills - On Da Spot - http://motolyrics.com/t-mills/on-da-spot-lyrics.html
 I'm bad like Boosie
 Rap to me is easy as apple-picking is to baboonsies
 I baloon his goons and lay them lead with that strap
 It'll leave you scrappy, Scoobie
 Act the movie, ain't what he shat, but it kept him rolling
 My swag is
 So overpotent, I rap like I'm overloading
 Convulsions doing exploding imploding foes
 And reloading foes back
 I keep shit going all lax why the fuck they fronting? I'm back
 The fuck they wanting with that?
 Just keep mine coming in stacks
 And repeat your thumb in your ass cuz you fucked yourself
 Iller than some are real and I'm trill enough for the South
 '88 New Yorker nigga, old school grill in his mouth
 No school blocking my route
 Pro Tools truck and I'm out
 Those rules drop and I'm out
 Position her like a stool then we pool drop in her mouth
 Militia we ain't playing
 MC'ing we ain't banging
 Quiet riot what you saying? Green
 Ha ha ha ha ha yes on the set like a bet
 Who the next guest best the shit I express
 Too much to ingest like incest being confessed
 Lingo I possess can infest the nest
 You manifest, blessed, your chest compressed
 Can be digested, following a drive by
 Like let's get high, eyes get tested
 Lives get hectic, guys' wives get pipe-necked
 Besides refreshments, I can't imagine any more than poor misfortune
 Forming porking if I'm forking he's an orphan
 Dwarfed and morphed into a short and awkward vulture
 On the? kind of raucous
 Hit the stork like skip the door bitch it's important
 Stripper store, pop a cork for Cory Culkin
 Whore a story walking glory talking
 For a Maury Povich audience
 I'm annoying, I'm employing so I'm enjoying
 Employing my shit's a dime on top of another nine
 This rock could your mother climb
 Shit popped another?
 Gets dropped for some other? to get flipped for other tops
 But bitch, a lot of niggas hella copped my swag
 And trying to raise the race green and never clocked my drag









