I'm with you on that everybody thinks they're a rapper. Most of what I'm slapping nowadays son puros corridos. Los Buitres, Los Originales de San Juan, Chalino, Los Amos, the list never stops.
Thats whats up. I play accordion and bajo sexto. I was trying to get a homeboy to sing a few tracks putting it down but he's into more soft shit like michal salgado and garcia brothers.
I'm with you on that everybody thinks they're a rapper. Most of what I'm slapping nowadays son puros corridos. Los Buitres, Los Originales de San Juan, Chalino, Los Amos, the list never stops.
Actually, I have a song featuring Lil Bandit, Lil Loc, Me, SKarekrow, Lefty, LSE, Travieso (415) and my boy Chuckie with a corrido beat hahaha going on No Suckas Vol. 2. Il post it up wen I have more tracks
Actually, I have a song featuring Lil Bandit, Lil Loc, Me, SKarekrow, Lefty, LSE, Travieso (415) and my boy Chuckie with a corrido beat hahaha going on No Suckas Vol. 2. Il post it up wen I have more tracks
1-you call yourself flame but ya flows is cold//-feelin ya rhymes the day elton john fucks a ho//-cant take this clown serious plus his name is dustin//-big ru came to ya pad and not one grape was busted//-I say y'all both hop in the booth and lace something//-two 16's in a half a hook and name it bluffin//-or come from shoulders and clear up ya name//-cuz it don't look to good gettin punked by a lame//-but fuck it let me get back to dissin this dame//-who thinks he still shinin in the mutha fuckin game//-but in fact more duller then a fake diamond ring//-if we ever face to face you'd be Ina puddle of piss//-naw they'd find ya face down where they husslin criss//-wit 10 shots in ya lid but real talk I'm just playin with this kid//but I might let a lil homie put tips on his wig//so don't trip kuz ya face ain't worthy to touch my fist//I'm a bully you a bitch I'm a 40 you a sip//so ya mom snitched on ya guess it runs in the blood//that's why i so fuckin baffled you portrayin a thug//coner came thru,scared so you covered it up//thought it was feds and had visions of inmates touchin ya butt//sucka stop lyin you was burying stuff//you was in the corner pinchin yourself nigga tryin to wake up//
1-you call yourself flame but ya flows is cold//-feelin ya rhymes the day elton john fucks a ho//-cant take this *clown serious plus his name is dustin//-big ru came to ya pad and not a grape was busted//-I say y'all both hop in the booth and lace something//-2 16's in a half a hook and name it bluffin//-or come from shoulders and clear up ya name//-cuz it don't look to good gettin punked by a lame//-but fuck it let me get back to dissin this dame//-who thinks he still shinin in the mutha fuckin game//-but in fact more duller then a fake diamond ring//-if we ever face to face you'd be Ina puddle of piss//-naw they'd find ya face down where they husslin criss//-wit 10 shots in ya lid but real talk I'm just playin with this kid//but I might let a lil homie put tips on his wig//so don't trip kuz ya face ain't worthy to touch my fist//I'm bully you bitch I'm 40 you a sip//so ya mom snitched on ya guess it runs in the blood//that's why i so fuckin baffled you portrayin a thug//coner came thru,scared so you covered it up//thought it was feds and had visions of inmates touchin ya butt//sucka stop lyin you was burying stuff//you was in the corner pinchin yourself nigga tryin to wake up//*** *