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Down and Out (feat. Kanye West & Syleena Johnson)

Killa! Baby!

Kanye this that 1970s Heron flow huh?

Yeah let's speed it upAyo street mergers I legislated

The nerve I never hated

On murders pre-meditated

Absurd! I hesitated

Observe: cock and spray

Hit you from a block away

Drinking sake on a Suzuki we in Osaka Bay

Playing soccer, stupid, stay in a sucker's place

Pluck ya ace, take ya girl, fuck her face

She dealing with Killa so you love her taste

She swallowing Killa cause she love the taste

I got brought up with crooking

Kitchen orders that I'm cooking

But got caught up with the jooks you woulda thought I was from Brooklyn

It gets boring just looking

Did like Bill Cosby, pouring in the pudding

Now the dashboard is wooden from a hard-tangled grammar

Interior, inferior, star-spangled banner

Car game bananas

My man Santana

Guns everywhere, like the car came with hammersThey trying to say he (down, down)

I hear niggas saying he (down, but not out)

But our flow is the truest

The games in the nooses

Our girls is the models

They coochies the juiciestYeah, they say he (down, down)

Yeah, they say he (down, but not out)

Cause I'm back on my grind

Money back on my mind

Ye' and Killa Cam', the world is mineI treat bitches straight up, like Simon Says

Open vagina: put ya legs behind ya head

Cop me Air Ones, hon, lime and red

You got pets? Me too: mine are dead

Fox, minks, gators that's necessary

Accessories, my closet's a "Pet Sematary"

I get approached by animal activists

I live in a zoo

I run scandals with savages

All my niggas get together to gather loot

Bodyguard for what? Dog, I'd rather shoot

I go to war, old Timbs, battered boots

Hand grenade, goggles and a parachute

Ya'll don't even know the name of my flip

It was "Touch Me, Tease Me" when Case was the shit

You don't know bout the cases I get:

Court case, briefcase, suitcase, cases of CrisThey trying to say he (down, down)

I hear niggas saying he (down, but not out)

But our flow is the truest

The games in the nooses

Our girls is the models

They coochies the juiciestYeah, they say he (down, down)

Yeah, they say he (down, but not out)

Cause I'm back on my grind

Money back on my mind

Ye' and Killa Cam', the world is mineAyo you dealing with some sure shit

My bitches pure thick

Play razor tag, slice ya face, you're it!

It's I who come by drive-thru

Gator-toed Mauri, three quarters, sky blue

Look at mami: eyes blue, 5'2''

I approached her "Hi boo, how you?

Pony skin Louis? Oh, you fly too

You a stewardess? Good ma, I fly too"

Now a nigga got baking to bake

Harlem Shake? Nah, I'm in Harlem shaking awake

Shaking to bake, shaking the Jakes

Kill you, shoot the funeral up and Harlem Shake at your wake

Just ya picture though, you still taped in a lake

I'm laughing; you couldn't wait to escape

For anyone who owed the dough, I had to load the fo

I hoped a nigga heard when I said "I told you so"They trying to say he (down, down)

I hear niggas saying he (down, but not out)

But our flow is the truest

The games in the nooses

Our girls is the models

They coochies the juiciestYeah, they say he (down, down)

Yeah, they say he (down, but not out)

Cause I'm back on my grind

Money back on my mind

Ye' and Killa Cam', the world is mine

Songwriters

DEAN DILLON, FRANK DYCUSPublished by

Lyrics © Peermusic Publishing Song Discussions is protected by U.S. Patent 9401941. Other patents pending.

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