Az And Half-a-mil Freestyle Lyrics

Az And Half-a-mil Freestyle lyrics

f/ AZ, Half-a-Mil



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AZ: Triple Nines on 'em....knamnean? AZ...the

pioneer...overseein'...Half-a-miliato....gunshots and glocks and

calickos and all that shit....quiet money...this is law...



Verse 1: (AZ)

I speak prophecy, what was, what shall become

my philosophy, wise words repel from the tongue

fuck a novel or some made up shit to spit

this is life, bein' poor or rich, blood or a crip

made for those lost in the street with no jewels to help

so many thugs have lost love tryin' to school themself

prison walls with the yards filled in for God Children

bein' scarred from these hardships, kinda hard healin'

it's heavy, this shit is necesarry, teach the youth

travel 9000 Miles just to reach the truth

increase the troops, population

cops chasin', shots racin'

another slug rocked her face in

from BK to East Orange

recieve homage

my V's armored 

camouflaged in fatigue garments.



Verse 2: (Half-a-Mil)

Yo, we through with Bitches and jewels on the wrists's

through with Sixes

Quiet Money formed the new existence

futuristic

it's 2000 now, computer chip shit

my crew is wiser now

niggas is fallin' and we risin' now 

this is where the ballin' stops

close all the spots

open up the lots, put the tops on all the drops

fuck flossin' rocks, put 'em all back in the box

put the horses back in the barn, put the yacht on the dock

take all the bonds and public accounts off the stocks

son, we ready to rock 

our own Country we ready to cop

look at Congress

they can't believe Hoodlums rised beyond this

from Brook-nam to the skies up yonder. 



Verse 3 (AZ)

Whats the prognosis?

high explosive, fly culprits

try and focus, for this dough you die hopeless

deathwishin'

let off six and kept spittin'

tecks kissin'

if you real respect the mission

run reckless

took money, done records

from one Lexus to a half-a-town in Texas

chose classes

crooked D's roll passed us

smoke massive

keep a toast in both stashes.



Verse 4 (Half-a-Mil):

Yo, we thugs forever

international with plugs forever

now we intergalactical

above mystical or magical

spiritual and practical

we individually factual

livin' Willies who's stacks grew

now we got better things to do besides attack you

kidnap you 

my rhymes bubble faster than a Ki of crack do

I was a ghetto bastard readin' Matthews

sellin' plastic valves

now to get to my crib you gotta drive alot of miles

there's alot of Deer, Rabbits, alot of Cows

you bust bottles more than even the Ross child

go to trial, never cop out

a Million and a half under the table, guarantee that I'm out

Quiet Money, thats what eatin's all about.