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Vic Mensa

Genres: Hip-Hop

Rapfix Freestyle Lyrics - Vic Mensa

[Verse 1: Vic Mensa] 

The first one was a fluke, anyone can get beginner's luck 

Rookie think he too hot cause he drop bars about some Harry Potter books 

And said some stuff about a semi truck 

In them same cannabis print boxers, boy that shit HUF 

Yeah, I heard of Vic, he sound like so and so and such and such 

He ain't original, he ain't digital, he ain't the INNANET 

Them Odd Future kids been had made that shit up 

We ain't Savemoney, we si -- aight, aight enough 

Multiply my numericals uncomparable 

My tarots straight even in the slumps 

They trying to beat me to the jump 

Be like I'm skydiving without a parachute 

You might drop first, but I'mma hit harder than ten of you 

Eight out of nine of my dimes, got smoking Tennessee's 

I'm betting 35 like I'm from Oklahoma, Tennessee 

Tentative court date pending, they trying to sentence me 

Send 'em and in-voice, out of state, lawyer handle my plea 

You petty boys, don't address me or catch a Gettysburg 

Blood on the leaves, bodies fall like autumn 

And if it's off-season like Halloween and February 

Word on the land is that I'm getting air play everywhere 

I hit the ground running in '93, I should probably die when I'm 27 

Heath Ledger lines to keep the work on the plane 

Like I'm staff, plus I be flying free 

Fresh outta jail, fire up the tree, in my bomber seat 

Shout-out to the porky round police, keep my pits clean 

Smoke strong like creatine, cranapple juice to clear the trace 

Clear papers when I'm writing, I be seeing green 

Cut my negatives like a filmmaker switch screen, split screen 

Refrain from shit that repeat 

Ducking detectives trying to make the quota 

See that 44 clap like the nolia in the streets 

Niggas chances be slim gotta stay a soldier 

Boy, it's been one hell of year, ain't it? 

I left the band, became a man, my brother Purp just had a daughter 

Some of my other fam damn near famous 

I'm still in the hood, same whip, same crib 

Same homies where I used to serve OGs through the fence 

Masking the blade, you better hope d'Artagnan come to your defense 

Fence in the field, I'mma hop it 

Cops come I'm hurling the sack and changing the topic 

Talk that mess, make me mop it 

Buckshot, lunar eclipse split the black moon I'm in-- 

 

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[Verse 2: A$AP Rocky] 

Kufi's ain't goofies 

I had two chicks with two G's, gave 'em roofies 

And then you know they gave me some loose-leaf, paper 

I said I'd do your favors to you later 

Darth Vader shader, see you like the razor 

I don't give a fuck about clans or the Raiders 

Niggas know me and I came with the braids up 

I don't give a --- 

Is that a curse, I can curse? 

(No, no, what's wrong with that? Keep going) 

Because I freestyle in person 

I gave you penis, I mean phoenix 

You already know my shit the meanest 

You could say penis on TV because it ain't a curse 

It's worse, leave them in a hearse 

Niggas wearing skirts, talking about us do dirt 

You don't want Nerf 

They don't want it because they shooting but they bullets made of Nerf 

And you know I come through riding [?] and surfing 

--- Lamborghini --- 

Let me hear something, Bun, what you gotta say? 

 

Photos 

 

[Verse 3: Bun B] 

It's all good, I'm representing UGK 

We them dudes that mama told you about 

I'm like Red from Five Heartbeats, open the window and hold you out 

And this is freestyle, it didn't come written 

So it's all good, we real emcees that's spittin' 

On the turntables we got DJ Red Alert 

He keep it mixing, I spit the the rhymes that make your head hurt 

I make the world shake, I make the ground quake 

Everything I do is groundbreaking, it's ground break 

Type flow, boys already know 

Bun B repping UGK for life out the do' 

This is PAT freestyle spittin' 

Already said spittin' and written, no bullshitting, I'm here 

And I'm killing it, keeping it trill 

Boys already know they'll never touch me for real 

So do your thing, but don't try to do me 

That's it, just don't do me 

 

[Verse 4: Glam] 

The chew was mucus, I spit it up 

Trying to be infamous, while you rappers is jicama 

Many come try and get them some synonyms, what I'm spitting 

The open casket if you asking, I dided them 

So everybody crowd around, everybody be the shit but homie I'm the foulest bowel 

See my vowels be pure like Al B. Sure's brows mane 

Just trying to get a couple O's in the account mane 

For now I count change 

And eight times out of nine rappers be 'bout rain 

Or the claim 

Or other dudes' chicks and how big his -- is 

I'm flyer than a pilot let me show you how to pitch this 

Never sex it up and dumb it down 

Insane flow, I'm Usain Bolt I run this now what? 

Glam 

 

[Verse 5: Vic Mensa] 

What time is it? What time clock looking like? 

Rappers smoke crack, they need to go and cook a pipe 

First the Fat Boys break up then Sway cut his dreads off 

Then Vic Mensa came and cut they heads off 

You hard, but your bread soft 

You talking crazy, that's why the [?] get you layed off 

Your legs off, chop them like a Mexican 

The cartel come through every time that I'm flexing it 

You know they disrespecting him 

When I'm riding through and the glass is reflecting them 

I see them phony, they trying to play me like we homies 

They wrap me up that's why I come back around with the homies 

And stomp them out 

Come back home when I used to go from rags to ragging bone 

On my feet, what you feeling? 

How you know? Me and Rocky in this bitch killing 

Still trilling 

 

[Verse 6: A$AP Rocky] 

And I'm trilling with the nigga Bun 

We can't curse? (Do what you gotta do, man) 

And I'm with my homie Bun 

Top gun, you know we number one 

But hold up, let me get to the flashin' fashion 

You already know it's some casual crassin' 

I got the new Dior's 

And I don't give a fuck, got three floors 

And like three broads and like three cars 

And they all hoopties 

And she got fake bags and they all Gucci's 

And I like the strip clubs cause they all hoochies 

You know I give them dollars, they love loosies 

Everybody know the Prada, Prada 

Gotta holla, holla at a dollar, holla at your guala 

Holla tomata, hottie tomaties 

And you know hot Tamale's 

You see me in the allies fucking popping Molly's 

I ain't 'bout it though 

And you know I got the boutta boutta boutta flow 

I come around like where's Waldo? 

Tell her I need the motherfucking model 

[?] love shoes with the [?] 

And my breath stank, I need a Alto 

You already come through-- 

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