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- Ghostown - Your Turn to Die Lyrics
- Uploaded by LOVE4LYRICS at Pastebin.com
- DJ On Point: This shit right here is by Cig featuring Formz. It's called
- it's Your Turn to Die. The Forgotten Borough, the mixtape
- [Chorus]
- Who the fuck is talkin' shit!?
- Bet this pussy gon' back down quick
- Grab your guns, better rep your clique
- G's up T's down, it's your turn to die!
- Who the fuck is talkin' shit!?
- Bet this pussy gon' back down quick
- Grab your guns, better rep your clique
- G's up T's down, it's your turn to die!
- [Cig]
- They rappin' hard now, cause that's what sell homes
- Formz: When only thing they ever killed was they cell phones
- Swell domes of rappers posin' like a hard ass
- When only gun he ever seen drawn was in art class
- Darts blast, so fuck that rep you doubt
- You're so ugly cashiers won't even check you out
- Doubt your clout, with lies bout the dealt bricks you sold
- When only time you felt brick's when you're cold
- And when I'm old, I plan to be the best in the game
- West rest, test the aim of the vest and the chain
- Messed with the lame, and know that the kid keeps scopes
- Cig's next in line, frankly, I'm the last street hope
- You callin' her wifey but she's one to keep, note
- That Mark Felt aint the only 1 admittin' to deep throat
- Heat soaks, hate the kid, but you'll buy it still
- Cause when I come see you, you're quiet like fire drills, so!
- [Chorus]
- [Cig]
- Truth or dare? it's the truth that Cig's the hardest
- So how dare you wanna step to this artist
- Tucked Mag and a clip, I drop a line on a track
- Fuck baggin' a nick when you got a dime in the sack
- Grind with a pack, stack, dunny, word, true
- I've sold enough weight to give New York the bird flu
- Screw your bird too, she blew me in bunches
- Her neck movin' up and down like she doin' crunches
- Threw in the punches, I'm the best and they know it
- Bet your Bucks I'm the number 1 pick like Bogert
- Wrote it, they quote it, they sayin' Cig's a force
- I got enough lines to fill up all 12 months of the Source
- Of course this kid aint gotta crack the rounds
- Cause when I come see you it's all daps and pounds
- Smack the clowns, and if you're so hard, tell me
- This homo's trapped in the closet like R. Kelly, so!
- [Chorus]
- [J Formz]
- Formz is god on the streets, always come hard on a beat
- Ayo, I spar with MC's and leave em' scarred on the beat
- And when I'm feelin' like this, be sure of your direction
- Or go to the pigs and start oderin' protection
- It's slaughter if you step son
- Cause I love to send shots, and you gon' wind up gettin' caught up in affection
- I ought to be a blessin'
- Cause when you ask about unsigned hype, you know Formz should be mentioned
- I'm armed so don't tempt this, with stronger defenses
- To calm all your senses, and all with a sentence
- The track's been raped
- And I don't need dough on tracks
- cause whatever I move in weight, I get back in cake
- Please, you wanna come test me kid?
- Let me in and I'm killin' more records then Gretzky did
- Punch line after punch line man
- you would think I was Fab the way the crowd was like d,d,d,d,DAM!
- [Chorus]
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