Who Da Fuck Are You Testo

Testo Who Da Fuck Are You

* f**k alarm clocks, battle me you'll start wakin up I slice you with your rhyme book and write verses on your paper cuts With alcohol pads, excuses you'll be makin up Sound dumb like Outkast breakin up Last time you shot somebody, you had a camera I'm C - Rayz author of stamina Loungin on the walls you'll end up like Humpty Dumpty With your shell cracked, scrambled, in search of something I'm a narcisist, I bomb quick, your full of sh*t like sausages, pardon this I alone turn crews into the Partridge kids I love games I play you like bragin right cartridges Y'all against me is dragons versus ostriches Totally proposturous, like abortions, i kill stupid kids before they act up Make a new suit flip call it a black tux You cracked up like baseheads in a space ship Playin ??? in the matrix, the only thing i lose is my patience I smack the sh*t out you tissue heads ????? ????? ?????? Hip Hop Don deep into stocks and bonds I'll take a sh*t in your house, and blame it on your moms Survivin the game when i get money im buyin a chain Drivin a Range and my flame will expire your fame I'm comin through loaded one, buckin two I'm C-Rayz Walz son who da f**k are you? Chorus: (X2) Ayo yo yo im truckin through with my ruckus crew, your luck is through Yo im C-Rayz Walz WhoDaf**kAreYou? I'm comin through fifth knuckle bruise brick fist snuffin you Yo im C-Rayz Walz WhoDaf**kAreYou? Who da f**k is you (x5) C-Rayz Walz plain Pat Some people must get jacked My repatoire from back smackin cats wit gats on impact Just like that we festered like bubble in cuts Doublin up now funny cats get f**ked up for mumblin stuff The nearest truck rolled up im just playin wit this Every line explosive my pen broken up but Still smokin strokin thrust, f**k closin shows My ?? flows is hot, let me open up Like Arabian referees who yell sesame plus I'll spread through the industry with leprosy cuts Effectivley strut, put a hole in one the second we putt You so pussy you come from a rib you son of a gut Lining ass rappers up, I'm the lightning struck Blazin like we lightin a Dutch Masters up At the Mason-Dixon line twistin lime in a cup Get your mind f**ked up while your nine in the truck Even my producer know math with his caucasion ass so Just because you say please doesn't mean i won't blast stupid You gotta show and prove it, brothas live and die for this music Dont do it for amusement Ghetto hi-top blaze you for your hydrox Put glocks on my Irish clock and watch my eyes pop Chicken head, i dead your livestock Do a song with Charles Dutton to see how i rock Chorus