The Mad Rapper - Evolution 3000 (Main Version) lyrics

[The Madd Rapper Intro] Roll another blunt man, Cuz sh** I gotta get high That's the key to my sh**, I get high Ya mean [Tracey Lee Intro] Yo I don't know what they thought, I don't know what the f** they thought I don't know who told them this sh** was over It's never over man This Tray Lee muthaf**a I represent Philly, I brings the heat, 3000 sh** For my dogs who grow hard in Bogard That be in the muthaf**in' streets [The Madd Rapper] If you wasn't on my dick from day one, then screw ya'll My rhymes are lyrically designed to blow through ya'll Chest piece, Through your Lex piece, I knew ya'll Fold when the full court pressure step to ya'll, do ya'll Do what I gotta do to get a dollar, I ride on the train snatch A chain off your collar, Ask wife, for 600 I can borrow Cause * Someone's Name * gonna throw me out tommorow Yep I'm still broke, I still choke And even though I ain't puttin' in no doe, I still smoke Still tote, Spittin' out these bars I wrote I'm not tryin' to get ? ? ?, Wit gats in the bizack Bags of the Crizack, Dimes and Nicks On the streets bitin' leather, Keep 'em high till six Got pies to flip, and wise guys to clip And in a minute or ??sixenit??, you might see me flip [Tracey Lee] A-yo, The Tray Lee, Is you thirsty Let's guzzle these mc's, Put the muzzle on dem n***as mouths And breeze, They all talk to much sh** Walk the walk like dicks, f** strictly Bum chicks That's why I no them n***as crabbed out Inchin' En on all these n***as a**ed out And when we get 'em, We let the rhythym hit 'em Black oozy slipt 'em, Kinda f**ed up how we did 'em Big dog bit 'em, If would have been on P he would have seen it comin' Instead he had his eyes on me, and I'm gunnin' For all n***as who bite the bullet, If you bite the first one you might Bite the worst one, It'll hurt some Straightened Aim, this n***a straight frontin' BK brawlin' in the street n***a who want it What, We storm through blocks wit kicks, Violate 'em We stomp n***as and then we stomp jakes (cops) [Black Rob] What the f** is the haps, Here we go again, Bussin' caps Get down, for sweet thugs, and my n***as who push crack Who be in the back, Loadin' they macks, Hit the surface It's on now, when I attack it's with a purpose My soldiers, Trained by dreams, the street seems My n***as that know, how to be handlin' these fiends Come in between, me and this green, I doubt that Sixteen through your jeans, now f*gat how about that Ya'll ain't ready for war, Ya'll just playin' a part I rip apart with guns that be state if the art Play it smart, and you'll get a b**h, like 99 I never hide, If you cowards can't find me fine I been rolin' with these punishers since n***as been schemin' On free lunches, Now I push up and do crunches Won't stop squeezin' this trigger, Till ya'll arrest Damn right, you f**in' wit black, It's more or less [Tracey Lee] I crack jaws, lyricly slap ya'll, in figure fours The over Lord, I'm nice, Name your price Wit mics, Break n***as like dice, Tray da Great One One of these half-a** n***as, son this ain't one But, How they gon act, My style they study it MC's be like Shaq and 'em, Still not ready yet Many have tried, But f**in' wit Tray It all can cause n***as decay Spit it for them street n***as, Dice rollin' dogs Who mix liquor n***as who feel no pain, This rap sh** Tray got covered like rogaine, Can't wait to get one of ya'll on stage That's my domain Went from no name, to Cats knowing my whole name Controllin' the whole game The whole aim, Spittin' sh** ill, It's like c**aine R and F, Better run for cover, Cuz you dealin' with a real k**adelph Muthaf**a like that [Buckshot] ? ? ? ? ? MC's, No the time like Seiko Spittin' dialect, dirtier, than a freak ho I Buck, role wit my n***a Lito And we snatch goods like the repo Clips in my skully, 44s in the Peko Pull it out, make you deep throat, Then we let the heat go So what, never in your life try to play me Play my seven six n***as, Or play Tray Lee My ice-real monsters, Intimidate ya'll n***as ain't playaz so I guess I'll just hate ya'll Better recognize my clique, and where my name is Got your wife, on my dick like my chain is Take her to the Tele, Then I, f** her brainless Cats say that, They can talk to the stainless Spit the razor, Leave a smile where your beard at Viva R, and F, Ya'll n***as better fear that [Kurupt] Hoes eat dicks and that's all they do I'm jus a gangsta a** n***a in grey and blue When the flow bounces, n***a we blaze ounces Whoa n***a My woman makes more money than most of ya'll n***as High post, high cla**, high to the sky Kurupt and Daz Two hits and pa**, Two steps and blast Is that right, on the Rooftop at night Wit a scole, Bout to blast everything in sight f** whatcha Thought, f** whatcha like Despite whatcha thought, And whatcha thinkin' like Show me whatcha got and I'ma take the sh** I'ma shoot a muthaf**a and I'ma slap a b**h You must have lost your Mutherf**in' mind s**er punched a n***a in his muthaf**in' ? ? ? Dip made the dash for the muthaf**in' doe f** everything I see and everything I saw Guzzlin' gallons of Henesy on the rocks In the clubs wit my dogs, Thugs, 38 slugs, Persian Rugs Pistols launch off like missles Sherms, curls and perms, b**hes ain't sh**, f** them hoes and tricks I take the money out of her hand and backslap the b**h And some of these n***as is b**hes too And the same motherf**in' thing will happen to you But b**h n***a, Whatchu thought this was a mutherf**in' game You must not have heard about my motherf**in' name Kurupt(echoed), Young Gotti(Echoed) DPG f**in' up the party [Tracey Lee Outro] Yeah In 9-9 That's how we get down Dead a** this time around Tray Lee, Fever, Black Rob, Kurupt, What the f** You ain't sh**, Your crew ain't sh** R&F to def, Philly in here, You know how it is