The Press Project - Keeplock lyrics

Intro] This is that good sh** right? It's that Get Right It's the Get Right right here, It's that Get Right n***a [Apocalipps] Ohh, Apocalipps, Ohh, Yo, I said Yo I said mistake me, Don't mistake me, Please I hate these, My gats always on fire, f** a safety Don't make me, Make you disappear, Straight Gs I like beats like these, Bite it and give it rabies Like rats do, And I can see it in your facials I run with wild dudes that eat food, And they will taste you Hit you from your neck to, Your chest to, Your ankles You Schwarzenegger cats is mistakes, I must erase you I ain't gone chase you, See I'ma let this bullet race you And treat you like a new pair of air max and lace you My Yankee bat will break every bone inside your leg Even Evil Knievel wouldn't jump off with his moped Now here's the big one, Your not calm f**in with Lipps son That's like makin a midget shoot the fair one with Big Pun That's out work weight cla**, Apocalipps I'll take your stiz-ash And yall Jennifer Lopez n***as is straight iz-a** What is that, Try me and you gone find out This ain't no game, Once you get here you can't call time out Yo I'm from Staten Island, You shouldn't f** with them kids And I'm not Christopher Wallace but you can still call me big Because I got big lips, A big dick, A big gun and it spit A big house with a big fence, Insurance, I got a big six It's like that, Go get your sh** pushed back Because you don't even have to go to McDonalds to taste a Big Mac Loaded with hollow heads, Roll deep with ghetto heads And I got toast to toast on you so called thorough breads I'm too nice, And why the f** you got your shoes tight Because you ain't gonna bust a f**in grape in a food fight n***as spit lungies, And some n***as spit flames Man I'm spittin sh** that's cold to leave you froze for five decades I went from doin shows, To up north as a recade And robbin n***as in the town, This is my best days But that's my past cause, All I do now is sell lyrics And k** n***as with my rhymes and listen to their spirit Shh you hear it, One of the illest n***as out of S.I And I we ever cross we cross your heart and hope you'll die I'll break my 9 piece in half and now I have a 4-5 The clouds ain't gonna shoot back, Stop bustin shots in the sky f**a Uhh, Ruthless ba*tards, Staten Island let's go That how you do it n***a, That's how you f**in do it