Mcmdavo - No Pulse Lyrics

Ah, Davo, you did it again,
Okay okay yeah let's go, let's go, uh uh
Davo, you motherf*cker
They ain't knew I came up from the gutter
Growin' up, my daddy tote the cutter
Lights in the basement, that would flicker
Frosted Flakes for breakfast, lunch, and dinner
No table, sittin' on the porch Pigeons flyin' in and out the door
Cigarette buds on the floor Crack heads, askin' for a short
Moms died in and out of court In the streets, I'm out there smokin' dope
Weather cold, North Face coat Leather toed socks dickie throw ons
Tank top, Timbs' to match em' both my hancock, itchin' on a pole
On Hancock Street with a crash outs, please do not ask bout me
I'm a shadow in the nighttime Look around, keep a flashlight, please
If I catch a sight of you, I'ma make the news Make a bad crime scene
Shred the evidence, throw the body in the woods That's a bad night dream
Wake up and you realize that it's real I'm the ghost of the east
I'm the ghost of your nightmares Ski mask Halloween
Everybody gotta eat Everybody got a feast
Real cannibals, we some animals Ain't no cage that can keep us
You can try to defeat us You gon' end up, let's go, let's go
You gon' end up where my feet is You my son, yeah
You my son, you a fetus That's what happens when you sneak diss
That's what happens when a burglar's in the hood Hit your house on repeat, yeah
Creep through, no speakin' No floorboards squeakin'
Tile floors only make it easier When a young nigga leavin
No pulse if he breathin' No pulse when he breathin'
No pulse, no pulse Tryna take some, he got no pulse
No pulse, no pulse Tryna take some, he got no pulse
No pulse, no pulse, no pulse
No Yeah,
Got candy paint from her nails All in my seat once I'm done diggin' her
And I left my right handprint On her ass cheek, signed, pick it up
Y'all rap niggas just finger bangin' ya don't tote guns, just finger f*ck
Y'all pussy boys be clickin' up Like pinky fingers, just twistin' up
I promise y'all when this rap shit take over I'll get rid of ya
Ain't gon' finish me Rap game like Little League
Some of yall ain't even past six foot so how you gon' belittle me
Why you bringin' up the past? Damn, that's your last hit in this history
Dog food in your mouth when you talk shit Probably need some Listerine
Or some new dentures cause the teeth sittin' in your mouth
Probably never saw a dentist I'ma knock him out
All that talkin' really for the birds Flockin', better watch your mouth
Like bird shit, it's unexpected when the worst hit
When the worst hit
When the worst hit