Best Rapper Under 25 Songtext / Lyric

Weezy wassup with it bruddah?

Maestro

I need to fuck over his beat real quick

I'm the best rapper under 25,

24 inches on my ride

Ball like 23

and I shot my first .22 when I was 9

Rappers out they mothafucking minds so I gotta go

Psycho on these niggas,

call me Norman Bates with a poker face

Got the banger in my hand and I'm out to poke your face

.38 Special, grab it, let him have it, where the safe, we hungry

Housing authority saved my Section 8

My section be on the west side of Compton Cali, champ

Where the killers posted on the corner like a letter stamp

Let a rapper tell me I ain't better than whoever's out

I'mma knock 'em out his Force 1's once I air 'em out

Air jets flying 'cross the atlas, I made it momma, made a promise

Married to hip hop, and the maid of honor gonna be R&B

I'm fucking her too, so please hand me my condoms

Where the honeymoon in the mother fucking booth

You're fucking right, I'm the fucking truth

I put my hand on the bible

Swear to god if I lie, then I'll probably die tomorrow

Tell my momma don't feel sorrow cause her son was a gunner

They found my corpse with a rapper's head in my stomach

I'm right here, I ain't running even if the Iraqis w-was in back of me

Back against the wall I'm clapping them rapidly y'all

Would never stop what you can't see

It's like a red light when driving with Stevie

Wonder

if you can understand or withstand the blast of my wrath

I steer the game with both hands while you crash

Like Earnhardt my heart to the fallen soldiers

You can either ride, or get rolled over

Sleeping on me, I put you in a coma

So please chill out before you meet the coldest

Starving every day, see my face where the bowl is

Bowl on my face, I walk while my mouth hold it

Hold it

[Hook]

21 gun salute

And my soldiers killed 20 of your troops at a time

nine teens

on the corner fucking with marijuana

Jive and heard about 18 rappers say that

a bird can go for 17.5

my sweet 16's be equivalent to about 15 pie

I was 14 when I wrote a rhyme

All I seen was 13 ghosts every time I wrote a crazy line

All these 12 bars in my verses, that's what Notorious and Pac arrived

God dammit I spit just like a mac 11 every time

I drop jewels, you drop dimes,

you pretending to be like mine

I intend to put about 10 of you rappers on channel 9

Straight up, fuck around and get

ate

Cut 'em up in 7 ways,

funeral carried by 6

in 5 days

you'll know I go for

Money when I sink my teeth in Carter III beats

To

you from me, my son the victory is mine, I won

The beat was the pussy

And I cum, hard