Lil' B - D.O.R. (Death Of Rap) Lyrics
[Intro - Lil B]***** the Rap game! It's the death of the rap game***** the world. I'm God. Lil B[Verse - Lil B]I'm militant, I'm very Based, I'm very properAnd you don't want a war: you bring your troopsI bring the chopper. Cause you niggas gayYeah, you gay. You *****in faggotAnd I'm adverse with 30 rhymes I let them have itBattlefield with fast cash, you never grab itI post up with big blunts & MaseratiRick Ross, The new whip is Big BodyNew Boys, you *****-niggas I been RockyBeen *****y as y'all as I been activeRide on us, we lock straps, no riff-raffThen you hold cars, we hold guns, Dodge MagnumIt's tragic how he left with no commentsNever settle for nigga-rich, I'm gonna rob emCatch me slippin with tiny pants, you think I'm nerdy?.45 got nice aim; I throw curvyMy game: I run the court. I'm James WorthyFrom the block, I'm from the bricks like New JerseyI did court, I did jail, you can't hurt meWaterfront and fam nigga, it's West BerkeleyAnd they ask where I been? I been rappinYou drive cars? You *****in fag, I been gassingIn my eyes is blood, sweat and paint, cuzIt's a shame that they don't know my name, BloodLil B: I blow trees in all seasonsThink I'm slippin? Find out! For no reasonI met pain, I met God, I met deathThey all say that I'm Based God, and that's thatSpit sick, I spit rhymes, I spit factsI ain't Drake, I ain't come in the game rich***** you if you don't feel my game, ********** you if you don't like my name, *****BasedGod tell your girl, she could suck on itPut money on God and I bust on himDon't hate! I rocked out like Philly rockWrists streetlight: a New York City blockBeat your ass like a New York City copFlipmode a Rah Digga, a mind-figure***** crackers, ***** hoes & ***** niggas***** her, ***** you & ***** meLil B: I'm back *****, I spit heatPost up, I sell dimes and fat zipsGot crack: the cats come like catnipDon't trip: I never fold like napkinsRude goon: I'm just "Robbin" like BaskinsAnthrax a real boy like OsamaBeen played, I been beat, I love dramaX-Man on defense, the street shitRiding up in deep tints & deep dishNever thought I'd come hard? I fooled you!Ben Watson I cursed you, it's VoodooBeen locked in, Mach-10s and Mac-10sLeave his head split & no Cochran to back himWhat? You niggas wish I'd fall of the Big League?At my lowest point, sacrifice to make breadXMR - call your ***** and get headShe don't really like you: possum, she play deadRiding up top. Real niggas in big boxSay the pack dead? ***** nigga the pack hotAll these new niggas is my sons, the new boys***** you rap niggas: new guns and new toysInfrared beam make you dream the truth, boySemi-auto rounds make you scream like rude boyOnly other thing that I ain't did is die yetI don't like that mindset, nigga, it's the grind-setThey way you watch this it could be a TimexYou not a threat: my rap flow is bomb threatsStay in your house: I'm stampeding with death threatsThink you hard: I bust a nut like good sexThink you real? Obey nigga, a hood vetLil B: I'm BasedGod with no stressIncest: ***** your bride, ***** your *****No homo.. ***** your life, I'm getting richMexican: I'm el amigo, I move bricksNo Love for dog hoes like New pitsDoctor! I need help, the game's sickLil B give a ***** about the fame, *****!
