All Out - Snak the Ripper

You don’t wanna get the Ripper started again

Don’t know another way, goin' hard as I can

Every bar I command is a part of the brand

Shit raw like sushi in the heart of Japan

Spark a little chronic when I park the sedan

Smack 'em in the face with the barf on my hand

Never give a fuck is the marketing plan

This’ll get into your blood like a carcinogen

Start shit, end up rolled in a carpet

Your bitch breath smell like an old dirty armpit

This here the coke bein' sold on the market

Come from a place that’s cold as the Arctic

Raised in the streets got a criminal mind

Been livin' behind this abysmal line

Chisel every verse, every syllable prime

And I’m gettin' it all done in minimal time

My names comin' up when they have their discussions

Hack your computer and act like I’m Russian

Grab that bat give your ass a concussion

Bitch stand back leave a path of destruction

Got that crack, every track so disgustin'

Big C Lance gotta stash the production

Smash the percussion

Ask if I’m bluffin'

Probably gettin' drunk somewhere laughin' at nothin'

I’ve been awake, gettin' live in the place

These rappers all fake

They just lie to your face

Got my foot on the gas while they riding the brakes

Five minutes they blinded, the time that it takes

Tryin' to debate while we

Strive to be great

Five in my head, one more line and I’m straight

So scribin' my fate, not defined by mistakes

Smokin' this green got my mind up in space

We like to keep it rowdy, they know we’ll never quit it

There ain’t no question 'bout it, we always stay committed

About to fuck this place up and it’s just to say we did it

If you got a problem with it bitch you know we goin' all out

Ain’t that probably what the streets is known for, goin' all out

Got the backstage lookin' like it’s girls gone wild, don’t tease me, show on

Now whoa, slow it down, had to teach my homeboy, that she’s a coke whore

She like to carve lines and slopes but these hoes don’t ski or snowboard

Like go for it, fuck her but you gotta wear a rubber, try to tongue kiss her

betcha she gon' leave a cold sore

And you gon' need more than just Abreva ointment

I’m always gettin' head they don’t need to coinflip

They give it up to anyone who seemin' important

Got me feelin like homie, the lead singin' Poison

Bret Michaels rap, I just vibe with Snak

Maybe nice on the mic

I’m a psychopath

That might go smack the fuck out of anyone talkin' about me on the internet

before I write them back

Cause real life ain’t a fake facade

Ain’t a front like a whore house but the sign say massage

Papers lodged, strapped, tucked underneath the famous stars

And great Bape in a mason jar

And unlike that fake chain of yours

You ain’t made your mark

If you an actor then play your part

For fuck’s sake you’ll get duct taped, laid out starin' at the blade of a table

saw

I’m like a paper boy, been known Atlanta Journal

Sharp dressed man, no flannels, thermals

No sandals, turtlenecks

Everywhere I turn my head, it’s like I’m standin' in the land of Urkels

Rappers say they want smoke til a firearm

Is pulled on 'em then they runnin' for the fire alarm

And start blastin', that was your final warning

Broadcast it on Viacom and we goin' all out, BITCH!