200
200

Nems ft. Spit Gemz - 200 Lyrics

5
200 Music Video

200 Lyrics

Nigga, this shit been hard (Yeah)
Body ya whole family
Like Chris Benoit
Leave ya pen scarred
Spit rim bars, ghetto memoirs
Bag ya bitch right in front of you
Revoke ya pimp card
You with the centaurs
Send her with her ribs gone
And a Fuck Ya Lyfe tee
That's the shit we been on
Nigga, my gun been drawn
And these cowards can't fuck with me
Nemstar with the Gemzstar, buck-fifty
Fuck a stylist
You keep on icing
I'll slice ya eyelids
Ice picks in ya iris
It's Coney Island
We up in Cypress
On the roof, laying like snipers
Professional shit, night vision goggles with wipers
One shot outta the barrel fuck up your ciphers
Shout out to the Lyfers
Scumbags and knifers
Live from Rikers
Motherfucker get cut quickly
Nemstar with the Gemzstar, buck sixty
Armed heavily
Guardians guardin' the God's legacy
My squad stomp you out with more legs than a centipede
Desert Eags, bombed at the bar off of kerosene
Kill yaself, you in the closet like David Carradine
Beretta scream
Couldn't step to me with the Devil's team
Energy like it's ten of me
Crash ya embassy
Kick ya front door wide open
Like, "Yo, remember me?"
Gemzstar with the Nemstar, buck seventy
I'm a hundred percent gutter
A hundred percent tougher
And any one these suckas
I tell 'em, "Go fuck ya mother"
I fell in love with the hustle
You fell in love with a Gunther
Now I got that broad feeding me grapes
That bitch a butler
She got you eating out of her ass
'Cause you a buster
She showed me where you keep ya stash
You shouldn't trust her
She thought I loved her
But I dubbed her
Now she hate me
Nemstar with the Gemzstar buck eighty
Man, I put that bitch head in a box like Kevin Spacey
I knock you out in front of the cops
And tell 'em, "Chase me"
Ya mom's is a big bull dyke
They call her Tasty
She used to boost Lo gear for me from outta Macy's
That's my crimey
The warrant squad couldn't find me
They mased the whole team on the block
They coulda blind me
Grimy
Wake you out ya sleep with one ninety
Gemzstar with the Nemstar, buck ninety
Come try me
Punk, the pump right by me
You pump-fakin and fist-pumpin'
Ya suit's shiny
I'm too slimy
Slide the tentacle in ya wifey
Might be the nicest ever without a pardon
You a target
I'm Sergeant Slaughter to you
Ya little twat, I got callouses harder than you
I'm a storm shadow
You a born rat who needs his jaw shattered
I abhor rappers
I'm the law, lord and master
I'm in the F-150 Raptor
All i do is grind and ride
Merch game homicide
Shittin on your nine to five
Ask me how I'm doin'
I say, "I'm alive"
But I still keep the grip by my side
Just in case the drama rise
Take the stand, I'ma lie
Lookin' in your honors eyes
Jab leave you stunned
Right hook'll leave you traumatized
Me and Gemz kill niggas line-for-line
With a scholars mind
Flow hotter than the sun shine in Ghana skies
Dollar signs
Lotta crime
Posted by the mama's fried
Shotties slide out the trenchcoat
Like its Colombine
Gotta grind
When the feds givin' out that Gotti time
Probably find
Bodies lined up
In ya lobby slime
Dust, booze
Mushrooms
Smack ya out ya molly mind
Police comin' around like, "Who done it?"
Back-to-back
Gat-for-gat
Who want it?
Nemstar with the Gemzstar
Two hunnit, nigga

Nigga
Come here, nigga
Ahh, nigga, just cut me!
Hold that, motherfucker
Somebody call the police!

Writer(s): Travis Doyle
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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