Freddie Gibbs - 1985 Lyrics

My bro said "Don't say that"
I said "F*ck that, I'm gon' be gettin' a wooping anyway
Don't make no goddamn difference"
F*ck that, I'm not one to find shit
What your mom say? "Take the garbage out, f*ck"
(Yeah) Yeah, don't lose the beat motherf*cker
Take the garbage out
Yeah yeah, I just upped the flows to the God level nigga what
Yeah, yeah
Finna up the flows to the God level, nigga, what
Yeah, check check
Yeah, mic check check
Yeah, nigga, check check
Yeah, bitch, check check
Yeah, yeah

Quarter thang to a whole thang, whole gang workin' (yeah)
Hit a bitch with that extended clip or that revolver
Shit'll serve the same purpose (bang, bang)
Keep them beamin' up to Scotty in my crack lobby
I can smell the 'caine burnin'
Michael Jordan, 1985, bitch, I travel with the cocaine circus
Put them F and Xs on your clowned ass
Catch a nigga up and leave him down bad
I go get a pack and take a nigga town
And f*ck his bitches with my out of town ass
Bomb on niggas like Nagasaki
Rocket next to my pocket, hot like hibachi
Drop the check on the bitch man
These niggas be lookin' like baby mommas in these Maseratis
Bitch, I f*ck up your face with a razor
How I make sure your motherf*ckin' family can't view your body
Nigga thuggin' and shit, put my blood in his shit
Prick my finger, Alfredo, Illuminati (Illuminati)
Joe Pesci, pushin' product
You niggas is sweeter than Joe Exotic
On the run like Assata, so f*ck the police
As a nigga be chillin' in La Habana (up in La Habana)
Police caught him with a whole thang
Now they snitchin' man, whole gang workin'
Gangland, made a lane in it
If my name in it, it's a gang murder
All my reps in the crack files, bitch, I got 'em up out the vault
I'm the reason your mama be smokin' that Brillo and be rippin' them car antennas off
Geekers beamin' up to Scotty in my crack lobby
I can smell the 'caine burnin'
Gangland, if you put a hit on Freddie 'caine it'll be a gang murder
1985, Michael Jordan, bitch, I travel with a cocaine circus
Flow God level, like when Hov speak
I make a song, weep, I got the game hurtin'

Bitch, yeah yeah
Flow God level, like when Hov speak
I make a song, weep, I got the game hurtin'
Yeah, yeah yeah
Yeah, check check
Check check
Mic check check
Check check
Niggas need a check, check, yeah
We got everybody in the house, tonight
I'll wait for my DJ to get ready
Nah