Dead Rappers

ScHoolboy Q

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    Hey , yo
    Guess who's bizack still hit a crack him off loads
    Cocaine spit throat be the stove
    Stay running on these tracks and the mic be the soles
    Be cautious real spitters so you might get exposed
    Copycats spitting all these facts
    Without your life attached not understanding where your life is at
    You got your boy confused though I'm not convinced
    Would tell you washed up, but your flow is drenched
    Let me clear my throat let me spit these quotes

    And tell you Q, Jay Rock, Dot, we run the coast
    I'm so addicted, and so is Lifted
    So restricted, now your flow evicted
    Fake niggas see through you like eyelashes
    Eyeglasses like Kobe nigga, no passes
    My breed, knowing that you can't make 'em
    You can't break 'em, so peace As-salamu alaykum

    Goodbye, I know the rapper dead
    I'm on my murder job again in the morning
    This 187 on the line I know the rapper dead
    That means another record label is mourning
    So you can run but you cannot hide
    Cause when I see 'em I'mma kill 'em
    When I see 'em I'mma kill 'em
    Mortician got a feeling with embalming fluid
    Cause when I see 'em I'mma kill 'em
    When I see 'em I'mma kill 'em
    Lyrical homicide best believe I do

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    Yo Q, these niggas think they cute
    Talking louder than the trumpet, when I see 'em where the fluke?
    Your opinion something moving like pew
    pass by 'em, hog tie 'em For the revenue
    bullets peer through the bulletproof
    Look what the iron do scope now I'm eyeing you
    Silencer, now my iron grew I en route
    Learn, of the flow first to realize these rap guys

    Shit on 'em then throw them to the flies bombs like Al-Ca-ter
    Ride on my enemies, homicide
    Text like a referee, give you free shot for any penalty
    Drop metaphors, nouns and verbs plenty similes
    Serve like a waitress and you don't want seconds courtesy
    Off K Dot, the son of 2Pac
    Biggies nephew Big L said I was special,
    Now let's do, lunch over these beats
    Even Punch said I was sweet
    Punchlines and kick hot rhymes 'till I'm burning my feet
    Ouch

    Wait I got it uh known for spitting knowledge uh
    Homages like tuition, they pay it like it's college uh
    Wait professor uh, well how I spit it this semester
    Look I'm sending MC's on a stretcher
    These bitches uh, all because my lyrical conversation
    Got these bitches begging for penetration
    Humiliation, Rappers they will know I demolish ya
    Spit you to a coma Dot finish 'em

    Uh, wait, Diminish ya preach like a minister
    Competition naw they pussy get the [?]
    Get in the ass like animals imitators get plenty of
    Propane, hotter when winter come, some insane
    Dope mane, bee's the studio, You ain't lived here
    Ever since I done came, record me yoooo
    Your own momma wouldn't do that
    She rather throw herself in the dumpster than listen to trash

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