Cassidy - 11 Minute Freestyle Lyrics






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Cassidy Lyrics

11 Minute Freestyle Lyrics

Look, I've been a threat, but now I record and they send a check
Man I stash half the cash then spend the rest
And I woulda been broke like ya'll fighting invests
We both got ice and cars, but I ain't in debt
A lot of vets need to give rhyming a rest
Ya'll sound like has-beens, and I ain't impressed
I'm dying to bet, you feel as though I ain't the best
Prove I'm lying if I ain't correct, they call me Doc
I'll give you dog shots, but I ain't the vet
And I got dough so I ain't upset
I threw the drop on, Michael J's in the top gone
The inside's butter like microwave popcorn
Stop drawing, it's gonna be hard to move me,
Swiss the monster, he can star in a horror movie
And usually, I click fast and bang your bitch ass
Ain't nothing changed I got 'caine for the quick cash
The change I whipped past, aim and bl-id-ast
The kid Cass got the game on sm-id-ash
Slang the st-id-ash, I'm trying to stack money high
Gimme money 'til I die, gimme 25
Man I might not be alive when I'm 25
That's why I carry two .9's and a 25
To sell twenties, that will get you dummy high
I bagged in the 125 on 25's
It's the 20's on the 5, my coochie rate skyrocketing
Look ock I'm a pimp that's why I copped your chick
Sis got the "it", now she tryna cop me in
She should stop giving her? to go shopping with
Popping ish, you might get you deserved it
But it happened, be happy she ain't get you murdered
I'm a straight cannon, and I'm getting the cake cannon
I be outta state tanning, eatin on baked salmon
I'm straight scrambling, tryna sell a gram of yay
But your strip only get a grand a day
And it's 10 of ya'll on it, but 10 of ya'll doin' it
So you don't get stacks boy, you a pack boy
Be on the corner for a hundred hours
Sell another gram of coke, and only gunna get a hundred dollars
You could probably get some money if you come and holla
Cause I got haze, and I cop K's
So my block made heavy money
My weed fluffy, and got read hair like Peggy Bundy
I got 20's, come cop from the house
Cause the green, you got garbage like Oscar the Grouch
I got more chains than you got in my couch
And the next cat scream my name gonna get shot in the mouth
I got that "yo" on the stroll and a whole notebook of raps
Every bar raw, when I write it's like cooking crack
I gotta mean street team that be pushing packs
I'm getting gravy like the 80's, I took it back
I watch niggas on the block get shook and racked
See niggas serve the wrong fiend, they get booked for that
I watch niggas try to floss and get took for that
So between the drawers and jeans where I put the gats
Neak keep the peace, and you know Mook a clap
The last cat that slept on Cass, he took a nap
You cats will go "night-night" for the right price
So I suggest you show respect if you like life
Cause the white is how I made loochie
Them big rocks got em like Chris Rock when he played Pookie
The strip pop and I ride for cash
And you softer than a toddler's ass
You can ask any cat that was on the strip with me
If I flipped the key and I had Christmas tree
Man Cass sold more bags than Lipton Tea
And I had chicks trick for me, cause I'm a pimp
My watch I gotta squint at my wrist to see
What time it is, and my hip where the llama is
I look at ya'll cats checks like where the commas is?
Fish tanks in the headrests, where the piranha's is
Cause when it pass, when Cass come spend it past
You know I'm going slow, but my rims is spinning fast
I'm in a class by myself you niggas ass
You did it in the past, but now you nigggas trash
And my flow's pathetic, yeah I'm so poetic
Even though I don't get my credit, but it's?
Everything I spit sick, like my throat infected
I'm the illest nigga out and I ain't sold a record
But you know I'm gonna blow cause I'm so connected
Swiss gonna produce, Jay gonna promote the record
Who hard as me, I did a song with R, but I ain't on no R&B stuff
I ain't no pretender, ya'll ain't remember the free stuff
And that'll happen to a nigga acting like he tough
I spit toxic waste so talk slick
And get your face sliced like a chocolate cake
My name Cassidy, I'm off the heezy man
I get so slick and greezy man
All my strips pop like a greasy pan
Cut shit, throw short, like easy man
Believe me, you need to come see me man
My coke make smokers have a seizure man
A chick will see my hand and leave her man
Gimme the keys to her beamer like I'm Beenie Man
You see me man, I'm a handsome boy
I make a? on my car while I dance some more
I be glancing at ya'll with your? on
But pink panther snoopy's on
I just put all my jewelry on
My diamonds, my rubies on
Shining off the light, it looks like a got a cuggi
Roof on the coupe is gone, and snoop is on
You niggas is simply dummies
Ya'll on the block with empty tummies and not tryin to get this money
I just got a watch, niggas tryin to get this from me
Oh the coupe dropped shit, a nigga clumsy
Chickens want me, and they not tryin to here "no"
Yeah I'm tryin to pop but I'm not tryin hear dough
Come over here yo, come on don't be scared yo
I'll I'm tryin to do is get brain like a scarecrow
I'm Wizard of Oz, look I don't be lying
A lot of ya'll need courage like the cowardly lion
All this powder I'm buying a could make a brick road
And my neck gold's the size of Swizz nose
But that's getting old we gonna bring it up to date
Niggas no that I?
I'm a grown ass man I don't play with kids
I'll spray the lead and rip you apart like a Mr. Potatohead
I bought the Bentley GT and it's tomato red
Cause I sling butter the color of potato bread
I grind for mine, dime for dime
Cats hatin but they know my rhymes line for line
They try and perpetrate, how you gonna hate and you a fan
Man my strip popping like bacon in a pan
My lil mans will take them grams and walk to Brooklyn
For the cake, but they ain't Making the Band
I'll put 10 on my wrist put 8 on my hand
About 80 on my neck cause I be sraping the pan
I'll take a trip, I'm back with a tan
I'm with a diva, sipping margaritas with my back in the sand
Or I'm on a yacht getting my cock wet from a Chinese freak
Trying to eat beef, ock with some chop sticks
Just got the hard top and I ain't got a car shop
I just hit Swizz on the phone, he on the car lot
I'm a star ock, got love for the game
But I'm still a thug mayne, put a slug in your brain
And put blood stains on your Timbs
So when the clip blow, get low like the Ying Yang Twins
Oh yes? on the windows, in the wall
I'm in it 'til the end yeah win lose or draw
My name Cassidy I know u remember me man
I hold twin revolvers like I'm Yoesimite sam
I ride with da four five but I don't drive an infiniti man
I'm dat guy you pretend to be man
That's why when u take a shot
It's not gon be hennessy man
I drop plots on my enemie man, blam
I can't let it slide and ride around petrified
Let em decide when dey gon try come test da odds
Fuck dat man I make da gat excercise
And u could be nex to die u better recogize
U get done for, chump if you want war
It's nuffin cause u ain't even fukin with my young boys
O u got domb rhymes I got done more
I'm sick with it, man I spit it till my tongue soar
Yea you might of done crimes but I've done more
My bedroom closet, remind u of a gun store
See I'm da one u run from, not come for
Cause pretty u can get da whole clip plus one more
U ain't neva slung raw with ya fake ass
I was burning my bags determined to make cash
And if the tables start turning I'm a take cash
U better try to find a teflon face mask
My mom said calm down u ain't safe Cass
And I ain't tryin see u at ya wake or upstate Cass
So I fell back, tried not to sell crack
Tried not to seel keys, man I didn't even sell trees
Yea I chilled but I was still gettin bread cause I did credit card scams with dis chicken head
I'm a be a hustla, until I'm sick or dead
But for my mom sake I had to let da grind wait
I was young at the time, I had to get my mind straight
I like to rhyme and got nice like n 98
I started gettin props, started gettin ish on lock
Dis was right after BIG died and I was missin Pac
Listen oc, I was really on cash
I was only fifteen and had philly on smash
For real, I still got philly on smash
I mean deys some hot niggas but I'm still da top nigga
And I stll a block nigga so my money hungry
And I pop niggas dat try to take money from me
See your money funny, And I don't joke alot
I cop 20 after 20 cause I smoke alot
I got an herb problem
I put a single out and I'm startin on my third album
So I bet u on my dick fam
Cause I met ya CEO and He said Yo I'm a big fan
I'm a big man crammed in a skinny body
And with da minnie shotty, I'll jam anybody
Cause I don't feel none of ya'll
And with da raps or da gats I'll fuking kill one of ya'll
Awe, Ya'll already Know
I got my hand on my hammer mind on my cake
Cause I grind for the cake I do crimes for the cake
I could do the time but I ain't tryin cetch a Case
I got da gun with me, but u would get a 150
I keep da nine on my waiste
Take out a knife and put a nike sign on ya face
Wait, I put in time for the cake
Dats why I'm grateful for every dime dat I make
I got signed now dimes climbing to skate
Cause my pockets Puffy and it remind dem of Mace
Wait I'm a bad boy, get trash bags full of cash boy
I'm in a Vanquish not a Jag boy
Why u mad boy, cause u ketch cabs boy
And u gettin paid less paper den my bag boy
Yous a hater dats sad boy
Cause your mom even like me, I might be ya dad boy
U a mess stop, I know u upset oc but u better watch how u talkin to ya Step Pop
Watch I'm gon be goin into ya fridge
And walk around with my boxers on ya krib kid

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Notice: All lyrics are the sole property of the indicated authors. Many lyrics have been transcribed by ear and may contain inaccuracies.