Fred The Godson - Say My Name Lyrics
[Verse 1]Tell him I want his children, I know he fear the flowI got the guns right here, deployThe women don’t care, Scarface shipped his years agoSonny lost his finger then this little nigga’s ears can goBeen in the room with the spitterCame to New York, he drunk, swimming pool full of liquor, rightFrederico freestyle and spit on yaIt’s like LA when the 40.Cal lift on yaIt’s political the way it worksBut I’m lyrical, I’m from the underground, I do the dirty workA hard hat, constructions – bars back in conjuctionWith the hood, got the [?] and hard packs, yeah, we pumpin’You got Snoop, we got Jay, we got Nas, you got DreBut you the king of everything, that’s how you wanna play?Cool – I go to your show, I know you tour in Spain, moneySo I aim at the crowd and hit your rumpEverything semi-autoThe home of the 12-12 skinny’s, nigga, it’s…My advice is, I’ve been the nicestMy rhymes come from the gut as the pen decides itFred the God on it, I part, I’m in the vicesIt’s true, mine’s ink, made up, I’m indecisiveAnd I still move the auto for the gramYou trying to wet us up, I gotta stop the war, I be damnedBig cats gets wood in Brooklyn, punks was in the XThey both was named B.I.G., you should a little respectBig L got shot in here, you show a little respectLike… massager, homie, I’m on your neckMust be hanging with highrollersWe get crazy when we broke, we can only bipolarBaking soda, the wood worksChef in seconds, I can give Inglewood workAnd for you rappers trying to put me in dirtKnew I was paralyzed then stood me up on the verseI’m still setting the trap, I’m still cutting up workYou get money from rap, and we be up late on the firstThe first – back to…Y’all be at AA meetings, must be missing the barIt’s a difference when you spitting at GodNumber one on their list, but I rarely listen to y’allI’m a back in the past rhymerIllmatic cassette in the pathfinderB.I.G. CD next to the bundlePac’s got me hardknocked, vinyls from the tunnelsTBM is willing to rideThis is verbal murder, I know I’m killing your vibeYou got New York sick so you the cancerIt’s like Philly ’96 draft, I’m the answerGo!
