Billy Woods - Blowout - Lyrics

Billy Woods - Blowout - Lyrics

Billy woods ft. Priviledge - “Blowout”
[Emcee(s): billy woods and Priviledge]
[Producer(s): 007 (AKA Bond)]

[Verse 1: billy woods]
Hail Marys get tossed. Playmakers on one knee
Genuflect an inverted cross. Looks like
You lost, boss. That’s how the cookie crumbles
Welcome to the jungle. Crush rappers
Recover the fumble (First down!). The way
I play, ain’t no out-of-bounds. Keep swinging
‘Til you stay on the ground. Keep a Pound like the
Cleveland Browns. Baltimore when I’m out of town
Twist up when I touch down. Rhyme
Cannon never out of rounds. Win, lose, or
Draw, close with raw cigar. Every-
-body by the ball, lift the glass for these I-95
All-Stars. Been doing it since sax
In backyards, juking squad cars on boulevards
Stiff-arming security guards in Juilliard
Look at the motherfucking scoreboard

[Bridge: Priviledge]
Look at the motherfucking scoreboard

[Verse 2: Priviledge]
Priviledge on the mic, massive yard, flash gas
Faggots need to quit rapping, take a step
When shit happens like gats, you’re wrapped in an ill faction
Thinking you can still master top mics, shows rock
Tight flows. God guys grown, you the deacon, I’m the
Pastor, rhyme disaster, spit a mind-mes-
-merizing, spine-tingling, bursting at
Disperse. When the word’s worth less than your life, murk
Crushed is what you get when you cook with the crockpot
I mean, the pot cooking, grub-robbing all hotspots
On fan shows, we dove, freak hoes need clothes
Ass out the steeple, preaching math to the people from
Philly to Indonesia. Dawg, I see you when I see you like
Martin told Gina. Started off in the arena. If you
Want to get down with this evil, be either crushing
Meters in the measure, plus I heard you’re living single like
[?], spit your facts. Plus, I keep
The meters intact while I’m on stage rhyming, sound
Bleeding through your speakers like a hemophiliac, slice
Leaking on the sneakers. For all these cats who wanna
Scream on receivers, start it off if you
Wanna harness the prowess. Smack
Emcees like baby powder (Uh, uh)
It’s the ladies hour (You nah’mean?). Come
Receive my baby showers (What? Yeah)

[Verse 3: billy woods]
Victory slid through my hands. Back on
The run like the Taliban, brass bands
Dirty Dozen, village of the damned hatching
Plans. Fuck Afghanistan. Colt
Two’ll be on 125 with an M1 Garand
Kickstand Cannondale, Uncle Sam
Drawing lines in the sand with Iran. I got a bird
In the hand—the fuck I need two grams?
A Bush, shove comes to push, shove comes to
Push. When they came for the jewels, you said
Nothing. When they came for the Muslims too
You said nothing, so don’t call my crew when it’s
Your spot they’re rushing

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