[Verse 1: Vic Spencer]
Vic Spencer one of the illest rappers
Give me a beat and Imma kill it faster
Mmm thick skin I couldn't feel a dagger
Big wind in the sick Benz, the lens was handcrafted
It's a lot of rappers that don't own masters
Mind in a suitcase I open it, it smell like weed
Better believe V-I-C over [?] I'm trying to eat
Niggas out of their mind I smell defeat
See deep in concrete, made the hook shot with a bum knee
Off the pack to the corner, Imma run for the three
We up by sеven, I make the shot anyway for all grеat measures
Stay healthy or you under pavement laying
I be staying in an accurate mode with crack in your skull
Slapping the globe I be attacking the soul
Rap up the quotes that I wrote in the notebook
I asked a chick baby girl let me see how your toes look
Boomerang stains complain to domains
Flow change, insane propane with lo-mein (disgusting)
Mix it up with all the propaganda
Look at my iPhone while smoke tropicana in a large cabana
Your girl made milk and cookies now she asking for Santa
I was shitting on the world, inherit hampers of pampers
I was a stoned camper rocking Stone Island by the rocks in the Hamptons
If the world out I didn't need stampings
[Verse 2: Monday Night]
Like Jordan with the 45, sitting courtside
Look like a rapper, like a don got mob ties, in a sauna
Give an order to whack you and now they're on you
Ain't no on that's the real meaning of calm
A real reason to break you
Instead of paying shit ain't no reason to take you
You be alright, if you ain't woke yet it's a reason to shake you nigga
But let me chill shit I know how it feel
Going through life and you didn't think it was real
God taking your will
The talk on round got you blocking your hoes
It ain't gonna be you boy the Glocks is exposed
Stop dropping and roll
I popped up, highly blocked up, you know she got bodied
Stay propped up, we throw you a party
The cops tough, yeah but they don't know nothing about it
A vague knowledge of the squadron
Schemes be polished from Brooklyn to Hollis to a hood near you
Richmond, they be listening, my shit good here too pimping
I ain't missing it I pull straight through
Kicking and shit, babysitting and she pull straight to
Innocent, I ain't listening to who said who
Or who said what or who said you're cool or who said fuck
This nigga listing it, I don't gotta prove shit
You wanna be a rapper but you don't wanna do shit
But rock badass clothes whole time they're new fits
But they don't really wanna do shit
Vic Spencer one of the illest rappers
Give me a beat and Imma kill it faster
Mmm thick skin I couldn't feel a dagger
Big wind in the sick Benz, the lens was handcrafted
It's a lot of rappers that don't own masters
Mind in a suitcase I open it, it smell like weed
Better believe V-I-C over [?] I'm trying to eat
Niggas out of their mind I smell defeat
See deep in concrete, made the hook shot with a bum knee
Off the pack to the corner, Imma run for the three
We up by sеven, I make the shot anyway for all grеat measures
Stay healthy or you under pavement laying
I be staying in an accurate mode with crack in your skull
Slapping the globe I be attacking the soul
Rap up the quotes that I wrote in the notebook
I asked a chick baby girl let me see how your toes look
Boomerang stains complain to domains
Flow change, insane propane with lo-mein (disgusting)
Mix it up with all the propaganda
Look at my iPhone while smoke tropicana in a large cabana
Your girl made milk and cookies now she asking for Santa
I was shitting on the world, inherit hampers of pampers
I was a stoned camper rocking Stone Island by the rocks in the Hamptons
If the world out I didn't need stampings
[Verse 2: Monday Night]
Like Jordan with the 45, sitting courtside
Look like a rapper, like a don got mob ties, in a sauna
Give an order to whack you and now they're on you
Ain't no on that's the real meaning of calm
A real reason to break you
Instead of paying shit ain't no reason to take you
You be alright, if you ain't woke yet it's a reason to shake you nigga
But let me chill shit I know how it feel
Going through life and you didn't think it was real
God taking your will
The talk on round got you blocking your hoes
It ain't gonna be you boy the Glocks is exposed
Stop dropping and roll
I popped up, highly blocked up, you know she got bodied
Stay propped up, we throw you a party
The cops tough, yeah but they don't know nothing about it
A vague knowledge of the squadron
Schemes be polished from Brooklyn to Hollis to a hood near you
Richmond, they be listening, my shit good here too pimping
I ain't missing it I pull straight through
Kicking and shit, babysitting and she pull straight to
Innocent, I ain't listening to who said who
Or who said what or who said you're cool or who said fuck
This nigga listing it, I don't gotta prove shit
You wanna be a rapper but you don't wanna do shit
But rock badass clothes whole time they're new fits
But they don't really wanna do shit
( Vic Spencer )
www.ChordsAZ.com