No Reason
Lyrics
Intro (Grafh)
You know what I'm saying, like
I been in the dirt a long time my G
Trappin' since high school
Word
Me and certain niggas ain't got nothing in common
You feel me
Facts
Verse 1 (Grafh)
You nice but I'm nice different
I turn grams of white bitches into tan light skins
And I'm the top chef, top chef, top chef
I make sure everything in the pot stretch
I'm the top chef, god bless
Birds by the flock slept inside of the bird box nest
I emerge in the curb and I hot step
I'm the gremlin in the dirt that got wet
I turn one brick into three
So as it twirls in the pot it turn into a box set
You heard it was not murder, then got death
I heard what you guys serving it's not fresh
But I twirl in the pyrex, turn to a five x
It rises till it burning my bicep
Whole arm in the pot
From the bottom of the fork, forearm to the top
I lost my whole arm when it lock
It forms like a smoke bomb when it drops
And it's all gone like a snow ball when it's hot
And fuck your rap sheet
That don't tell nobody if you hard or not
It just mean you got outsmarted outsmarting the cops
That tough talk shit just get annoying
When I met rappers I looked up to I was disappointed
Still wherever the dot land is where the pistol pointed
I'm in the kitchen I'm mixing the poison with the ointment
Bless
Hook
Punch niggas dead in they face for no reason
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom
You make me wanna punch niggas dead in they in the face for no reason
Wassup
Brrr boom
Punch punch punch niggas dead in they in the face for no reason
I throw the TV at you, you crazy
I wanna punch niggas dead in they in the face for no reason
My attitude is all fucked up, real shitty
P
Verse 2 (Grafh)
Trap god in Jesus name
When I come on the block it feel like Jesus came
Don't compare me to your man bitch, he's a lame
If he compare me to him, bitch he's insane
I'm the top chef, top chef, top chef
You came late you gotta take what I got left
I be baking the crop fresh
This is hoodie season, nigga I make it a mock neck
School of hard knocks, came with the grade and you got Fs
Are you afraid of the Loch Ness, that bathe in the swamp, yes
I'm breaking a swan's neck
I'm the birdman, the devil coming with crazy offers
Every time I smell crack burning it make me nauseous
New Ferrari, what's under the hood, baby horses
Dry snitches try and break the law and tape recorders
I take a wall and make a fortress
I take the raw and make a swordfish
I shake steak sauce, shakin and bakin an eight bar like I'm making sausage
After I take the apron off, then I take orders
Hook
Punch niggas dead in they face for no reason
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom
You make me wanna punch niggas dead in they in the face for no reason
Wassup
Brrr boom
Punch punch punch niggas dead in they in the face for no reason
I throw the TV at you, you crazy
I wanna punch niggas dead in they in the face for no reason
My attitude is all fucked up, real shitty
P
Writer(s): Peter Robinson
Copyright(s): Lyrics © BMG Rights Management
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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