1995
by Freddie Gibbs & The Alchemist
From the album: Alfredo 2
Duration: 04:49
Lyrics for 1995
Check (check) Check check This is the way God planned it Ho, you can't stand it We don't die, we multiply like rabbits Ran back like an addict Took the high road on niggas I'm ridin' overpasses Nothin' in your catalogue classic, you Shaqtin' like Thanasis Godfather Kane, I turned these sons to bastards Belt to ass like Joseph Jackson No relaxin', wrappin' niggas in plastic Yeah (if you don't start, no one'll finish) It's alright if they wanna start that shit Yeah Yeah It's alright, 'cause I'ma talk my shit Yeah (it's perfectly alright with me) Bitches Snake me I'ma still be alright, yeah Yeah, yeah, niggas hatin' But I'm still gonna be out there slammin' Had to come back for the sequel, ain't no equal Riggs and Murtaugh, this shit is lethal Pluckin' the feathers off this eagle, when I chef it Got that girl and stripped her naked Put that bitch right back together Made that hoe come back with extra I'm the Barks dale of my section (nah) Nah, I'm the Marlo of my section Bitch, my history ain't no mystery Boy, your bars are under question, under review Nothin' new, another crew of Freddie clones I put more niggas on this field than Jerry Jones Leave that man alone, yeah (Know what I'm sayin', nigga? Boy) (Leave that man alone) Yeah, yeah It's alright if they wanna talk that shit, yeah (got a sayin') Yeah, yeah I heard that nigga'll never walk right, bitch Yeah, uh, yeah, uh Bitches snake me, I'ma still be alright, yeah Yeah, yeah Niggas hatin', I'ma still be alright, yeah Niggas hatin', I'ma still be alright, yeah Seats were gravy, the DeVille was all white, yeah We smash like mashed potatoes, tax evaders Shout my brother HanniI I just made like one-point-five in Asia Yeah Man, this shit is crazy How a nigga done went from Nick Rocks to wet whip Gen Pop to Netflix, yeah I was in the cell makin' up a setlist for my next show For my next lick I was suicidal with a death wish, yeah, uh If I flew her out, it was a sex trip Now my baby mama 'bout to set trip I don't give a shit These niggas ain't with the shit These niggas ain't livin' it '03, I was in sellin' reggie in a box Chevy on spinners, bitch Got a dope boy certificate (certificate, yeah) I'm from the East Side Crime Syndicate, straight thugged out You a cartoon, Thugnificent But I broke the mold Made her crack the safe Only time I broke the code Nigga be twice as rich If it wasn't for clothes, alcohol, and hoes, yeah I want the dope, alcohol, and hoes Gotta stop trickin' on every Rubi and Amber Rose, yeah I'm still in my prime I've seen these hoes get old No shoulder left to cry on, ho, my shoulder's cold It's what you chose, yeah (that's what you chose, bitch) Ooh (hah, you knew the job was crooked) Freddie Gibbs, why you do 'em so cold? (But you took it, yeah) I said no (get ready for these niggas and these bitches) Freddie Gibbs, why you do 'em so cold? Yeah, this is the way God planned it, bitch, understand it We don't die, we multiply, just like rabbits You Shaqtin' like Thanasis With the fetti thick like molasses I'm out here stackin' cabbage Bitch, I'm comin' right at you, put on your 3-D glasses, uh No Ticketmaster, we ain't givin' passes Buy all the front row tickets To your show, and make that shit disastrous Yeah (nigga) Shoot up the front and get them bitches cancelled Hold your whole career for ransom Money call, you scared to answer, yeah I know you niggas thought I was scared to answer back These hip-hop cops are on my sack I've really been plottin' on my attack Niggas really don't want no smoke They want that clout shit off the bat Man, this rap beef shit is corny now I'd rather not be attached To none of these lame-ass niggas You can't do another interview Without the Kane Train gettin' mentioned Knock a nigga off with this bulldog Fuck switches and extensions Send a salmon back in your fanny pack Ho, you sleepin' with the fishes Piss on you bitches Oh Freddie Gibbs, why you do 'em so cold? I said, No Freddie Gibbs, why you do 'em so cold? Yeah, let's go nigga (why us?) I'm back, bitch ('cause you two are the most qualified for the job) 50 in the clip, yeah Why you do 'em so cold? (Yeah)