Quarter Juices & Timberlands (feat. 2X $kywalker & The R.O.N) [Remix]

Uh Yeah Yo, this remind me of like Quarter Hug Juices and Timberland Boots Like Like, bop your head to this shit for a second, right Don't you just get that like '94, '95, '96 vibe from this? This for my boom-bap heads right here, nigga Word up Yoska, what up Move-Yo Uh, yo Aiyyo, back is a jit I used to love to go out Now, I'm down to chill more Legit tryna get mom a new house Off of the realtor I don't gotta make them bounce to hit the billboard It's like a '95 vibe When you was selling ounces by the little stores You built for war? Niggas never did much You softer than a whore's poor clitoris That, she loves to give up You cornballs will still f*ck Big dog? You little pup In a four corner room with no doors Claim he the bishop? Said it's chess and not checkers You stalemate and forfeit Niggas dead weight, there ain't no checkmates Just a tour date Can't correlate, to all you cornflakes Living in rural states I make shit that you could pitch raw And easily could walk to base Can't conversate with all these traits of beefing and yapping You can ensure my fate, with carving face to deepen reactions I'm sure that all you need me for its the queefing and slapping But, legitimately That is just not my passion I've been vocal But now I'm killing ya kin But I approach dudes, sayin' like 'when will it end'? Y'all really goin' through You think I care Let me be hopeful But I dare niggas to come to my square with a circle I could smoke you in a second But the vape's better No need for second-guessing You the greatest ever? Right, until your head I severed By measure, you fall just short of all my sentence letters My thoughts assorted, but they deadly clever I'm not with the losses Creatively better than all of you so-called's Niggas probably just better off dead And mailed in report cards Fill them with lead? I prefer if we pegged 'em with long darts Niggas is feed, but can't go to bed Without they mom-moms Uhhhhhh I kick it off right here, shift in right gear The left jab coming at you fast through the right ear I come in peace, but I'ma leave a man on this mic killed Fright fear You test me, it's gon' be a nightmare Aight, clear? This beat mad ill Give me mad chills Max thrills We step in Timberlands and get mad bills Crack spills, all across your head With the bat still And come through flying like a fucking pterodactyl I told the boys, get ready for war To win the battle If they looking for beef Slaughter the heifers and the cattle And watch the snakes close to you You cut them off, it'll rattle Deadman tell no tales They can't even tattle Seen things no man could even dream Or even fathom That's why I stay locked and on my grind Look like I'm strapped in I'm always in action, looking like I'm Bo Jackson I'm always packing what you pussy niggas lacking Damn Watch this nigga Uh huh Uh huh Uh huh Uh huh Uh huh I said before I get started Let me make this shit known I ain't a artist I talk shit on the mic and diss your friends Hoping they start shit Follow your ass home And stop your ass, while you parking And beat you ass to death Will blast your vest like Eric Cartman I'm nothing to be start with I hit the bitch and still trying to hit While you pick her ass up, like Marcus You looking at a loose cannon Swear you never seen us With my telekinesis, I'll send you up with Jesus And split your ass in half Before you think to get between us You niggas never seen us The way I let my bars shine My flow smooth like fine wine This be the fucking verse that cuts your lifelines 'Cause I ain't filtering shit Like a Instagram timeline You innocent The thoroughest unthorough nigga You probably ever heard Ever since the last bitch got left on the E-Way Still trying to f*ck with Kur Oops, I meant Kur F*ck it, both they ass could get it Leave him at the door I run up in your store Take everything Curse your ass out While I'm dropping all the money On the motherfucking floor Who gon' stop me Y'all not me Infamous Zeus Yeah, we cocky