When this came out my lady at the time left me when i was going through a rough time. The line "You wanna leave me to be in my funk!" Hit home more than you would understand.
Tell me somethin', you can play, bitch?" [Chorus: Spark Master Tape] Uhhhhhhhhhhhhh, black bag (Spark Master Tape) Black bag, get that gas, in they lung, gorillas Black bag, get that gat, gas, in they lung, pack (feel good) Black bag, get that, get that gas, in they lung [Verse 1: Spark Master Tape] Bullet holes in the whip, shit looking like a DALMA$$HON Hater face long like a cow face is Got a high steak, gotta milk what I make Make a rapper drop beef like a burger bar waitress Gun 'em down, gun 'em down, gun 'em down In the coupe, in the car, blue crash, poof, let 'em drown I'm livin' proof, make a poof for the round Not in a booth and the truth, you a clown You a goof, let it loose with the sound You a rude poor dude with a pound I got an army on the phone right now They in ya lobby and they burn whole towns No match that I know And every dope rappers gettin' corny and old And they knows, listen to they songs and they flow (where you?) An either wack cats not acknowledging so [Chorus: Spark Master Tape] Uhhhhhhhhhhhhh, black bag (Spark Master Tape) Black bag, get that gas, in they lung, gorillas Black bag, get that gat, gas, in they lung, pack (feel good) Black bag, get that, get that gas, in they lung [Verse 2] Bullet holes in the crib, shit looking like a honeycomb They was all down till the money gone Grease on my elbow with the funnybone Bitch, it ain't funny, get ya stomach blown Gone, gun 'em down, gun 'em down, gun 'em down On the stoop on the bar stool, my tool spits rounds Your bullets move, but they move with a sound My bullets move, cause a groove in the ground See you snooze then you losin' the crown You don't move then you lose, then you drown Fuck the truth, you confused then you frown Bitch you rich, suck a dick, buy a chow Back with the gang my hittas Back on the wall made of platinum swishers Back back, back with the gang, my hittas Plaque on the wall made of platinum, platinum [Chorus: Spark Master Tape] Uhhhhhhhhhhhhh, black bag (Spark Master Tape) Black bag, get that gas, in they lung, gorillas Black bag, get that gat, gas, in they lung, pack (feel good) Black bag, get that, get that gas, in they lung [Verse 3] Bullet holes in the chest, got him lookin' like Swiss cheese Spark not the best? Homie bitch, please Clark with the glasses, I'm the shit, see? Ain't no shoes in the game that ever fit me, ya get me? Run 'em up, run 'em up, run 'em up I'ma turn the key, flip a key, make a G, then I duck I hid my keys, then I leave you in the truck You wanna leave me to be in my funk And if I see you even breathe, you get dumped I hope you sleep comfortably in the trunk Can't even see u from this weed, and I'm drunk You wanna see an MC? Then look Alone in my urn, uh Had a bunch of friends, but they left when it burned Brrrr! Ride 'till I die Fuck 'em all, fuck 'em all, fuck 'em all, bow
Never understood the motivation for ghost writers or ghost producers. If you don't have enough interest to do it yourself why do it at all? If someone else is writing it how is it you I'm hearing? Make original kkontent or shut the hell upp!
