"400 Bars (The Skeemix)" lyrics

It's been a long time, get re-acquainted with the world famous
You know how on point my aim is
Long-range snipers, clash of the titans, chrome pipen'
In this 300 like Leonidas
Snub in the bubblegoose, riding down the interstate
Where fiends put them needles in their arm and let 'em penetrate
Leanin' sideways with my fitted straight
The 27's on point, the paint job a New York minute late
Check my Audemars, no cloud's in my stones
Project's ringin', standin' by the corner store
Two Glocks on me. "Bang! Bang!" if you want a war
That was '05, now we ballin' on this tour
Screamin' out, "Thug Life!", pourin' Belve on your whore
Money I'm involved with it, wake up and ball with it
Kobe/Gasol with it, uncut raw with it
Chop bricks take trips ot
Before I had a goatee, I used to bag the Oz
(Yeah. Fish-scale nigga. What up, Ghost!?)
Then stash 'em by the oak tree, move it by the coke leaf
Drama let the llama knick niggas like Charles Oakley
Nigga don't insult me, I banana boat B.R.C.K.S.s
And stuff 'em in the Lexus
I'm sitting fat like Precious, Christ up on the necklace
And I keep them clips on a dresser
Yes, sir. I'm 'bout to ball. Louis bag the fuckin' mall
Bitches, money and fast cars, nigga I want it all
(Yeah, word to my kids nigga, I want it all)
NASCAR Game. Why the fuck would I stall!?
I'm the franchise nigga. Chris fucking Paul!
Empty out the cannon, hit your bitch. You're the truck and all
Withdrawal 200 thousand and then fuck it off!
King of the hill. Got a dime bitch cuttin' raw
She bagged the last nick'. I unzip. She suck it soft
Black Superman. Yeah. I'm above the law
I put this hollowtip a quarter inch above your jaw
Eat out a fuckin' straw!
Blindfold your bitch, toss her in the trunk
After the first 48 that bitch smellin' like a skunk
It's a wrap. I rap, when I wrap the punk
Throw me in the gang module and tell 'em wrap the bunks
The breakfast-club nigga. No Captain Crunch
This for my dog niggas that eat cats for lunch
I'm hungry like I ain't trapped in months
So, nigga act and stunt. My Glock pack a punch
Or I can Heckler-Koch and seal your pine box
Leave your head wrapped for months, while I pass the blunt
To my niggas: we're all Roc'd out. What's up, Jigga?
Sometimes I be in BK with Fab' on the freeway
Lincoln Continental and I copped it off a eBay
I pop cham like it's my b-day. Horse power
Under my hood like it's an Olympic relay
My flow right on time, no delay
I raise a million dollars, send it off to Chile
(Word to my red cross. I don't fuck with the Red Cross)
I'm All-Madden nigga. EA. I'm in VA
Money talks with Dre and Pharrell on 3-Way
Them 28s. That's my DJ. They're spinning shit
When I took trips OT, I never rented shit
I just drop then cop, and then I tinted shit
Diddy and Mike Epps. I'm all about the Benjamins
In it for the benefits. I'll be down in Ten to 6
Tell 'em get me a Porterhouse and some eggs benedict
Damn! That was good, but I'm still hungry
And I'm living it. I be out in Venice. Shit
They say Weezy-Jordan. Nigga, I'm on my Pippen shit
They say Drake-Lebron. I'm on my Moe Williams shit
If T.I.P. is Kobe then fuck it. I'm Derek Fisher. Shit!
Long as I'm in the starting five. I'm 'a get it in
'Cause I promised the city of Compton, I would get it in!
I was OutKast'd... Andre Benjamin
Now I slide through with my Dominican woman friend
(She like puttin' No Ceilings in. Yeah)
Giuseppe Heels, expensive wines, Perri seal
It ain't tricking. I just spend money on cheap thrills
Big Phantom's, sweet wheels
Back seat like a club. Make them bitches eat pills
Take Patróne shots to the purse with chrome Glocks
Jay Electronica. This' a dome shot
So, I had to steal it, nigga. I had to kill it!
I was the turtle in the race. I made the rabbit feel it!
(Yeah. Keep running, nigga)
Housing by the subway, feel it through the projects
Come through the Murcialago. A foreign object
Number-one prospect. The day that I was drafted
Aftermath-matic unleashed a fuckin' bastard!
Don't respect none of you niggas, get in the casket!
Talking ratchets, never touched a fuckin' automatic
Drama, this is tragic. Put it in the plastic
88 bars and runnin'. Throw it with my other classics
(Drama, you should've warned these niggas, I'm 'bout to kill 'em)
Yeah. Trash bag it. This is crack
And I know you been fiendin' for this. Come get your packs
I do it for the music, nigga. Fuck the Plaques
Ain't on no beef shit, but it's still "Fuck the rats!"
And when I'm in New York, I set a bunch of traps
Put the cheese where they can see it, and if you stunt, you clapped
Catch 'em in the club. That's when I stomp 'em flat
Nigga get up after that, go get a fucking bat
(I tell you 'bout these fucking rats!)
They're either snitch or bend-over to catch
No matter how you look at it, I hate fucking rats!
Get my bottle of Ciroc and I twist the cap
Sit back, watch the NBA play-offs and roll a bat
Yeah. Real fat. Yeah. All I do is stack bread
In the hood on the wall like a fucking Phathead
Two "nines" on your back. Warren Sapp. Yeah!
This' my block, and you, niggas, can't trap here
Unless you wanna get clapped here, head wrapped. Yeah
I'm killing niggas. I should have a hundred tat tears
Celebrate your death, toast bottles and clap beers
It's gon' be a cold summer. Come through like burr!
The red Phantom bullshittin. The 25. Steve Kerr
The beat insane. Just Blaze in this motherfucker
The cars outside. The 'K is in this motherfucker
I should let off a couple strays in this motherfucker
Fuck that. I'm tryna get laid in this motherfucker
(Yo. Tell your friends to get with my friends... Yeah)
Meet me in the parking lot. License plate "Aftermath"
Screamin' out, "Fuck 50!" Wouldn't snitch for half his cash
If he wasn't such a bitch, nobody would've had to blast
They stood us down in Jacksonville. Don't make me have to wrap your Jag'
'Cause I rather be in Saint Tropez unpacking bags
With bitches that speak French. How you say, "Catch a cab"
I don't trip euros, I don't trip pounds
I bowlin' ball bitches, 'til I knock 'em all down
(Like the '93 Pac, I Get Around)
Duffles by the staircase, crack by the backdoor
Navigate my way through the South. I used to trap, ho
All the way through Queensbidge moving packs. Yo
Might've lost a couple friends, but I got my gat though
Blast fo'. My rap foes could never stop my cash flow
Had a Nike box of hundreds, when I was in that RAV4
But now I pull up in that truck with the crash board
With the mag low, give you everything you ask for
Sometimes, I can be a fucking asshole
In the bank with my mask on. Look at this nigga A-R
Don't take your fucking mask off. Bitch, empty out the cash drawer
We're on a suicide mission, but we don't give fuck
'Cause if we make it out, bigger house, bigger truck
I'm in a strip club with a Glock. Nigga, what!?
Gimme your bitch. She got a cuter face and bigger butt
I ain't gon' do shit but pour champagne on her
Hit it from the back and watch half of the Laker game on her
(Don't put that back on. Too many cum stains on it)
Run a train on her, call Cartoon
Have 'em tattoo my name on her. Star Trak too
You know what? Fuck it. Aftermath too
Put a little smoke around it then take it home and pound it
Helicopter outside. Nigga, I'm surrounded
Had a spot in the Jungles 'til the fucking Feds found it
Momma, your son got a public announcement
I got 5 million in the walls and the couches
(Don't even think about it... We got cameras, dogs and guns)
Ask Pe-Pe. He was there. He can vouch it
Throw it in the trashcan on some Oscar The Grouch shit
A bunch of green popped out. Time to re-route shit
Settle down in Mississippi, gotta down South click
And my niggas like, "We ain't know all about this"
And any nigga ever snitch, got his fuckin' mouth fixed
You get 25, he get his fuckin' throat slit
Cut 'em like filet mignon and throw 'em off a boat, bitch!
Feed 'em to the sharks then dock the yacht
Oil in the water. Damn! The ocean so thick
Time to finish off his niggas on some trench-coat shit
It's a drug war. Real life. Grand Theft
Catch you in the streets, fuck you up and hit your man next
Come through on some retarded shit just sprayin' techs
Where my dogs at? Tell 'em I'm crazier than DMX
Lazier than Chinese eyes, when I'm puffin that
Blueberry. I ain't talking where the muffins' at
(Roll up the sour diesel, if you want, nigga)
I split open the dutch, then I'm stuffin' that
You should get a flight to California. Come fuck with that
That's all. You, go ahead, hop in the truck with that
Take it down in Cashville and hit Young Buck with that
Don't bring nothin' back. Border Patrol cuffing that
I ain't trying see the pen and have to get my knuckles wrapped
I wake up real early, keep lunching fags
This shit easy. You, rap niggas, my punching bags
(I got some combinations, nigga. Pacquiao shit)
Talkin 'bout you popping tags, talkin 'bout you popping Cris'
Where you get it popping at? Nigga you ain't popping shit
But a X pill, as I turn the Lex' wheels
I got a mean Phantom, very upset grill
Tell 'em why you mad, son. That nigga pulled a fast one
You know who you are, when I see you. That's your ass, son
But I'm in the club throwin' shots like my last gun
It's 2 o'clock. YURR. Gotta make a cash run
(Yo. Go get the truck from around the corner. Tell Wack I'll meet 'em outside)
Into the 7-11 'bout to blast one
This nigga A-R will not keep his fuckin' mask on
Deal with it when we get to the crib
You niggas is wildin'! Wait 'til we get to the crib
And split this fuckin' money up
Hit the block and dummy up
Shave the onion, slice it down the middle. That's a tummy tuck
That's how we do it in Compton. Fuck the police!
Defend my hood like an NHL goalie
(Sometimes it's cold on these motherfuckin' streets, nigga)
Iced-out Rollie
And I still remember everythin' that Dre told me
Red Polo fleece, sippin on that O.E.
Never been to jail 'cause I never had a cold D
Do it just like the O.G.s
Cut the Impala in half, insert the gold "D"s
Then bounce this motherfucker 'til it got a slow leak
Flatbed. Pick it up and you know me
I'm going with the car all night. No sleep
(Gotta get this motherfucker back on the strip)
Next day, we're in the red Phantom. 4 deep
Kids running up to the car. Block off the whole street
It's the ice-cream man like the Ol' P
Cali like the Lion's o-line. It's where the holes (hoes) be
BC running shit like a nose bleed
Don't get it confused or screwed like Codine
More swag than the niggas from the show-me
That's your bitch. I'm 'bout to Mac her like Goldie
(Shit. Together we can rule the world, baby)
Blacked-out Cartier. Four Season's caviar
Spray a little Diddy on it. That'll get their panties off
Nigga, see me in the lobby looking like "Damn! He soft!"
Catch me outside where I can let this cannon off
Soo to the Woo. Bet I let this cannon off
And put everything in the clip right where you standing, dog
Ride off in a Mazi' like "Can I ball?"
For the bucks. I'm tryna get it like Brandon, dog
(Young Money. Clearly, NBA rookie of the year)
I'm still standing tall. Wish the Twin Towers was
Take innocent lives. That's the type of shit a coward does
I'm just reminiscin', smokin' on the sour, blood
Take a couple more hits and pass the shit around the bus
You can't tell me shit. I done seen a thousand drugs
Hundred rounds in ten drums. That's a thousand slugs
One day, I flipped the kitchen table, found a bug
Kept lookin', found another one right around the subs
(Ay yo. Feds, can you hear me? God damn)
I was taking a shit, then I seen one by the tub
Feedin' my fish. There's a wire right by the rug
Dumb motherfuckers. This is not where they buy the drugs
That's Salami in the kitchen that we frying up
The world full of bitches. All the niggas dyin' up
They're strechin' niggas out for crack. All the fiends trying dust
We got some mean smokers for the sack. They tie you up
Quarter sack and get the pound. Brick burn the house down
(The connect ain't gon' think that shit is funny)
The fuck these niggas laughing at? Run up. You got some cash in that?
Knock on your momma's door. Your head sittin' in a bassinette
While I'm on a G4 smokin' up half the jet
All season in New York. Smokin' up half the Jets
246 bars ain't broke half a sweat
Just got half a mil', gave the hood half the check
And I done shot it out with prob'ly over half the 'jects
Sometimes, just for the love. The other half. Respect
(That's that hood shit. I'm livin' good, bitch!)
Out of my mind like breakin' off half an X
Moving through Hollywood faster than a bag a Meth
Yup. Nigga's better watch their step
'Less they're in a fraternity, but that ain't concernin' me
Let's get back on this ape shit, back to the basics
Cold words. Flip birds in the kitchen with cake mix
Yeah. Betty Crocker that, then hit the block with that
Cut-off khakis, house shoes and a stockin' cap
(Hit the Swapmeet... Get me some white Ts, red-tip socks)
My flow a 38. Don't make me have to cock it back
Shoot it like Olajuwon and bring the old Rockets back
Two holes in your face where your sockets at
Bring the whole hood out and show 'em how to drop a rat
They got them brand-new Porsches out. I'm copping that
V12 under the hood. Ain't no stock in that
Panoramic sunroof. Me and this chick watching glass
My hood is like cameras in the bumper. Watch your ass
(Get your ass smoked around these parts, youngin')
What the fuck you thought? Ride up banging Too Short
Smoke you like a Newport. Nigga, this ain't New York
I be in the jungle with lions or in the zoo lost
Or with my wolves that's dyin' to get their tools off
City Of Angels. Be careful who you cross
Niggas'll run in Mr. Chow's and take them fuckin' jewels off
Rappin' all that goon shit, we all know that you soft
A baby's ass in the Martha Stewart face cloth
(Or a box of cotton. Stay pushed 'til you're rotten)
So, nigga, you stay on your rap shit, while I stay on my trap shit
My bust-a-gat shit. Busta hit me like "You wrote 400 that quick?"
Naw. 282. And that's just 'cause the track sick
120 more
Welcome to the liquor store
Same one that frog sent me. Little nigga get the raw
And I did it. Cedar Block. I'm with it
Who, you think, got all these niggas in them Cincinnati fitteds?
(Yeah. Took America and Ken Griffey'd that)
7-5-8s. Throw on my crown, throw on my khakis
Then brush the Nikes down
Jump in the 'Lac and push to Nike town
Where them Space Jams? I need 'em right now!
Jordan sweatsuit on, oh let's do it!
Go Wocka Flocka on them niggas in these new kicks
You know how that go: new kicks, new whip
Blue 6. Loc'in on the set like a new Crip
(That line was so crazy I had to say that shit, Blood)
Interior coke white, smooth like Cool Whip
Sold the shit to Rick Ross. 80 thou'. A cool flip
Then I got that vibrant thing, my little Q-tip
That Maserati a problem, especially with the dual shift
0 to 60 and who! It's like a mule kick
I swear to God like the preacher in the pool pit
Speaking of pools: mine heated, come through, bitch
Long as it's La Perla, I don't care who you come through with
(Canadian, Spanish, French. Nigga, whatever!)
Minage in the deep end, head on the back end
I wanna fuck the Asian bitch. Next time, leave your fat friend
Why the fuck y'all in the Honda all packed in?
Headed to Inglewood. Say "was up" to Mack 10
Say "was up" to Glock 9. I'm back on you niggas' heads
L.A. would be a ghost-town, if I wanted niggas dead
Run with my Goon Squad 'cause more than half you niggas Feds
It's either that you ATF or one of 50's friends
(I see the wires hangin' out you niggas' Levi's)
Well, fuck it though 'cause the nigga did let me in
But he ain't wanna see the Game in HD on ESPN
I think the boy's John-in'. We was the best of friends
Then shit flipped, went to his holmes like I was Mexican
We all know the rest. Put the burner to his chest
Hit him with "300 Bars" and let the streets do the rest
Yes! Terror is over. You can eat now. Jayceon (Jason) killed Freddy
The whole world can sleep now!
(Dream snatcher. That's me now)
Take your money, lay your bitch ass on the beach now
I can see it. A G-Unit beach towel
Another man on it. Your'll 'bout to tan on it?
Send some little goons by to kick some fuckin' sand on it
We ain't watchin'. Go 'head, nigga. Jam on it
Damn homie in high school. You was the man, homie
You was lucky in Manhattan. The clip jammed
But come to Cali: you a moose in some quicksand
(Sink, nigga, like a fuckin' boat with bullet-holes in it)
Buttersoft Banks. You a bitch, man
Me and you was cool 'til 50 unscrewed your kickstand
And, Yayo, turn in your senior citizen wristband
Slap the shit out you for @LilHenchman
And just like the old days, I play the bench man
Dre, play the big hand. I'm cool with the 6th man
Never selfish nigga. I'm eating shellfish, nigga
My legacy will never die. The black Elvis, nigga
(Come check me out in Graceland, nigga. Pull the guitar out and everything)
Glock by my pelvis, clip by the waistline
On the block like Chris Bosh. Shoot it from the baseline
We're at the 350 mark. It's break time
(Ay yo. Go get the L out the car man...
Naw. This Purple Haze, nigga. I'm 'bout to roll this shit up
Get high, nigga. Finish this motherfuckin' "400 Barz"
Naw. My key's right there... By that, by that, Cocunut Ciroc... Yeah. Let's go
Yo. And tell The Runners I'm hungry, man
Get me some frech toast, bacon and shit)
Run up on you with 50 beans and 50 chefs
Niggas thinkin' it's a game, tryna push "Select"
Call a time out, like I'm out!
All these soft-ass rappers fakin' the crime route
Niggas got real quiet now that Shyne out
Don't make me smuggle 'em outta Belize and pull them 9s out
Niggas scared now. My Goon Squad here now
We're turnin' on the headlights and running over deers now
(Yeah... All up in the woods. What's good!?)
And I'm the only one you, rap niggas, should fear now
You see a G-Unit poster, you better tear it down
I'm talkin' to you, motherfucker. So, turn around
The beef forever lives. Never ever put your burner down
I beat the shit out these niggas. They Tina Turner now
Stripped of their manhood. Ass naked like they're Shermin' out
While I peel the top on the block and just burn it out
Hit the strip club with my niggas and just turn it out!
(Ay yo. That's Jeezy motherfuckin' Lambo'? Shit-cold nigga)
They got free hot wings, they're bringing full servings out
It's all good. We're straight. Time to perm' it out
Katt Williams, run up in your house, tie you up
And make you watch while we run through your spouse
Rip off her fuckin' blouse! Tiger Woods been in this?
No. Thank you. Pass that bitch to Menace
Get what I came for. Stuff it inside the Range doors
380 bars and get ready for the main course
(Yo. Gimme a couple of them napkins, a salad fork... I'm starvin' nigga!)
June 15th, one of us gotta change course
But not the one that spit 400, blunt'd and ain't hoarse
8 plaques on the wall. Hang yours
Before you get one, I'll prob'ly have 8 more
It never been about the money with me
Just been about tryna get my nigga somethin' to eat
Take 'em on a couple of tours, get 'em somethin' to beat
Never satisfied. That's why we keep the guns on his feet
(Yeah... All I know is blocks, Glocks and Ciroc... Let's get it!)
Who got a blunt I can chief? Nigga's running around like Indians
But near not one of 'em chief
Killa California. I'm just one of the beasts
Take a fuckin' blood bath and bathe myself with the beef (uh!)
It's the home stretch but I ain't even home yet
Only thing can stop me, is me. I'm my own threat
eatin' lobsters, writin' Al Capone checks
I still ain't on the level of N.O.R.E. or Capone yet
(Nigga's gon' learn. Respect the veterans... Nigga, apologize to Cube)
But after this year, and after this here
Niggas won't see the throne for another 6 years
P.S.: Motherfucker, ain't no bitch here!
I'm goin' out the same way I came in. 5th gear
i see the finish line. Shit! Yeah!
(It's time to celebrate. Kanary, bring that Cris' here
Sticks, tell Crack, "Bring the car around the back.")
400 and 6 bars... Bitch, it's a wrap!