Metal Lungies Songtext / Lyric

World premiere, world premiere



What these clown niggaz hollerin'?

What they need to be hollerin' is, "There go Theodore

Put the ball down, we can't score”

They pen shit to blackboards, make queens out of whack broads

You see us comin'? Fuck that Fam shit, just pass off, you bitch



Crystal', Dana Dane's wrapped around your neck

Lookin' rich, baow, you fucked up now

See my gun, nigga? This baby got stuffed uptown

Shouted out, made a whole safe with the pump root pounds



My buddy, keep my gun, right next to my tummy

Ask the click, yo, they spit metal lungies

Detach wigs, kill flunkies off contact, son see

Didn't Mommy tell y'all niggaz to wear clean undies?



See, y'all should've listened to her

She knew her son had a big mouth

An' someday, death would occur

Please, for Ms. Gale's sake an' her seeds

Pass the flurry, ain't fuckin' around, they knocked to her weave






Uh, oh, word up, this still

What you talkin' 'bout, baby?

Real kids spit that shit



Let's go, let's go, let's go, yo, yeah



Me an' Starks clear projects parks

With our '93 shit, army coat green an' light tan Clarks

Niggaz think I'm lucky, bitches wanna fuck me

An' put me in the tub with them like I'm a rubber ducky



I got a revolver in the pump about the size of Chucky

I remember faces easy as I tie my laces

Here, put the metal in your mouth, like you was rockin' braces

I spit an iron lungie, yeah, I'm old school like the Iron Monkey

My shit powerful enough to lift a fuckin' donkey



I got heavy chrome, niggaz don't care if you live or die

They happier than Marbury home

Y'all niggaz better kill me, my street niggaz, feel me

Louch gotta eat, ends gotta meet

The hard shit you kickin' 'bout is on beat as Tweet



This is Theodore, D-Block, the year adore

It's son who fall, with the four-four, niggaz like



Uh, oh, word up, this still

What you talkin' 'bout, baby?

Real kids spit that shit



Yeah, nigga, this is Ghost with Ghostface

I don't sell millions but I get millions

From the fiends that smoke base

Somebody leavin' out with a poked face

Tone, burn him an' kick his teeth out

I can swear I won't get you no case



I'ma make it look like you smoke base

An' we don't leave no trace

These rap niggaz swear that they so safe

I don't wanna talk to you, homes, I don't communicate

My guns be in my hand, one in my palm

An' I could dial your number like a smile off the face



With the H.K. 9, I'm the all black hummer

Metal lungies'll spit the grungiest shit

Hungriest shit, seventeen dummies a clip

Tell them rap niggaz to suck my dick



Fuck the industry of [Incomprehensible]

Shut down the store, bust my shit

I got some hustlin' ass niggaz that'll pump my bricks

An' some dust head niggaz that'll dump my clips, what?



Uh, oh, word up, this still

What you talkin' 'bout, baby?

Real kids spit that shit