Quando a música “Suicide Slang” foi lançada por Reef the Lost Cauze?

A música Suicide Slang foi lançada em 2010, no álbum “Fight Music”.

Suicide Slang

Reef the Lost Cauze

[Intro] [Reef The Lost Cauze talking]:
Yeah. 1-2, 1-2. Yeah. Blam! You know what I'm saying? I'm killin' like 45 niggas a day son. You wake up in the morning shoot motherfuckers in the face. Let's get it. This is real

[Verse One] [Reef The Lost Cauze]:
Welcome to the sound of pain, pounds and 'caine
I skeet skeet off in the mouths of babes
I'm to blame
For arrests and riots
Every three seconds, a tec fired
Death defyin', I am a tyrant
Pryo-maniac, set to fire
You flamin', watch your man melt
Get your hand dealt, my hammer is hand held
I'll beat your face in till my hand swells
Slang drugs to music, nothing that I can't sell
I hustle I pimp
I grizzle I trick
Extra P, the pistol and piff
The Axe, The Shovel, The Sickle, The Stick
Gravedigga, I'm made nigga, you live on my dick
Like a pubic
My mind like the Rubix
Cube my dude slang fluff white like Cool Whip
Nasal cavity
Crack and you'll drip
I'm all 'bout the drama, the nonsense the bullshit
I don't give a fuck who you are or who you with
I'm a gangsta pumpin' Gang Starr Full Clip

[Chorus] [Reef The Lost Cauze]:
Ask me no questions I'll tell you no lies (no lies)
Don't ask me shit, get punched in the eye (in the eye)
What, you a cop or somethin'?
Get dropped for frontin'
Get popped for nothin' we on that bullshit
Ask me no questions I'll tell you no lies (no lies)
Don't ask me shit, get punched in the eye (in the eye)
What, you a cop or somethin'?
Get dropped for frontin'
Get popped for nothin' we on that bullshit

[Verse Two] [King Magnetic]:
Condition my health to grow within these risky times
Position myself to blow without a 69
Bad Boy in the county, now they strippin' Shyne
Vickin' mines, mixin' line got me liftin' nines
Rippin' guys as soon as I shoot it
Consuming the music, maneuverin' through it with humorous new shit
And numerous movements, Hoover induces, move and produces
Abusin' the truces
Truth is, we losin' the future
Rules will shoot ya
Either way the pain relay
Cops canvas where we pitch like a rain delay
Aim the tray like a waiter
A bus boy a caterer, baitin' ya to spend a little paper
While you waitin' for the maker of the masterpiece
Classic B, half of me
Folded in the cut like a plastic crease
Drastically
It's murdered over master beats
Grab the piece now they not gangsta, like Master P

[Verse Three] [Slaine]:
I'm ready and focused, approachin' the road to the riches
It was then being hopeless, loaded with cold blooded bitches
Soldiers are moldin' my scriptures
Homies that holed up in ditches
That souls that told me to spit this and flow like nobody's business
I've been over this over and over, so what I'm vicious
Swollen boulders and baking soda the odor was just as
Sickening as you could picture
The smell of it keeps gettin' thicker
The world's in total disorder
So my mode is reflected
You can loath or respect it
Love it and know that it's hectic
You can hate it debate it you still promoted my record
When you stated my name and said "The White Man's The Devil"
And why not stay in my lane and build my hype to that level?
Pens pissy with power, paper raded with ink
I ain't afraid of nothin' so I always say what I think
From the bowels of corruption, street corners painted with pain
Remain the same, insane till the day that I'm Slaine

Reef the Lost Cauze

Suicide Slang

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