Rep 2 Tha Fullest - Freddie Gibbs, Jay Rock

It sound funny but, but I hope this rap shit save me dawg

I’m out here, nigga

I’m really in the streets

I see a lot of niggas try to use this shit to get in the streets

They got it twisted

Fuck around, play around with fire, you get burned

Never ever been on my level

Fuck with Fred you face to face with the devil

Raise hell to raise my funds up

Bitch I was raised in the ghetto

Pedal to the medal, foot to the floor

Three hundred fifty horses rolling

On the run cause I just kicked in the door

Hit a lick, the whip reported stolen

Tell me who out here got my back

And my dawg just got forty flat

A lot of niggas wanna hold with your four

At the end of the day man I hold my strap

And it ain’t been no holding back

Hear my life told in all my raps

You probably got a problem with that

But the Midwest street shit I brought it back

What what you want, custom air Jordan’s

Cab is slammin' on Chrome trill

Bitches who pack straps in their bag

Stacking their own cheese

Indica, Sativa, my reefer stocked tall as palm trees

Rap is for dick suckers and divas I don’t recall these

Type of niggas living and breathing but I reside that

Eastside 17th the streets of the G I survive that

To the hood niggas go to school do right

This shit I’m doing, nigga you could do life

Before I picked up a mic I earned my stripes

I represent it to the fullest

Any given day could die by the bullet

Strictly no perpetrating when I pull it

(I represent it to the fullest

Niggas across the nation, narcotic cooking

Every block, every hood we proud of pushing)

I represent it to the fullest

Any given day can die by the bullet

Strictly no perpetrating when I pull it

(I represent it to the fullest

Niggas across the nation, narcotic cooking

Every block, every hood we proud to push it)

I represent it to the fullest

Living every day like it’s my last

In this fast lane, in this race is for that cash

Watts city representer, 9 double O 5 9

Got a pound for the low, whatchu smoke

Too gutta, too grimy in these LA Times

You will find, Blood or Crip, don’t matter who you are

Niggas love to trip

Bitch niggas talk loud

Then it’s complete silence when it bark BLOW

Niggas don’t never talk it out

They spark it out, then them coroners come to chalk you out

That’s what it is, another unsolved mystery

Bullets don’t never have a name

Niggas just aim, squeeze and bust

When your time is up, dawg you history

Like a hieroglyph, every 24/7 on survival shit

If you floss flagging niggas kill you on some rider shit

Know who you riding with, friends backstab

Bitches will get you killed, in this field for sure

It’s no joke on this front line

We in the trenches with big blammers, no punchlines

Ducking the one time

Got the heart of a soldier

Ain’t no fear in my eyes

First signs of submission

Niggas eat you alive

Predators get squashed

That’s how it be happening

When you relaxing

Knowing you’re responsible for your actions

I spit that real reality rap

I do it for the hood where yo analogy at

I represent it to the fullest

Any given day can die by the bullet

Strictly no perpetrating when I pull it

(I represent it to the fullest

Niggas across the nation, narcotic cooking

Every block, every hood we proud of pushing)

I represent it to the fullest

Any given day can die by the bullet

Strictly no perpetrating when I pull it

(I represent it to the fullest

Niggas across the nation, narcotic cooking

Every block, every hood we proud of pushing)

I represent it to the fullest