James Crow - Sauce on Fries Lyrics

Stog the best at it
These rappers are meth addicts
Amphetamine heads my weaponry
Bless cabbage
Gats got good manners
Tip hats of these bammas
Chong Li, drape my knee with ya bandana
Shot up like Hammer
I don't git you suckas
Thinkin that these hammers can't touch ya
You the type whose
Knuckles neva scuffed up
Shirts always tucked up
I pull the blade out on you youngins
Shut the f*ck up
You a product of bad parenting
Actin out in public
Ya pops didn't want ya
Get ya broccoli steamed let these demons confront ya
Put ya body on lean
With a beam on ya onion
Consider that brain food
I serve it to most rappers
You wrote that bullshit
But you got a ghost trapper
Give razzies to these actors
Gun clapping at your performance
You cooking with a formin
Storm ya hood like fifty mormons
It's Stog

Dig it I'm 30-plus
Lookit ya jeans dirty
Plus ya jerseys tucked
You niggas is Jersey Shore
Reality drama
I take the beef to ya mama
Like ya deadbeat father
I'm a Jafrican warlord
Slow southern drawl
But the guns runnin 4-4
Line up ya favorite rappers
Watch me eat em all smorgasbord
Don't tip the waiter
Then I leave out hordy tord
You make songs for strip clubs
Dress real boogie
Pussy-whipped off dick rubs
I'm a Jafrobeat thundergod
Swing hammers at losers
Grammars abusive
You rather I go back to reclusive
Pugilist pen professional
Will punch ya mouth toothless
Excruciating pain mane
This nigga's ruthless
The Rhino's running reckless
Wave ruegers at a doofus
And bloody up his snapback jack
That's where the proof is