Man, what's up?
It's Terror Reid, Pouya (Yuh, bitch)
408, 305
Coast-to-coast, you know how the fuck we ride
Here we go, let's go
Uh, uh, yo, check it
(I was)
I was born with the mind of a madman
Understand Terror?pushin'?dust?like a fan,?goddamn
You just found?out that I'm the man, where you been at?
I get more head than a snapback cap
It's been like that since way before we bounced back
We snatchin' diamonds out the glass and we sell 'em right back
Fuck around and get jacked, nah, you can't have it back
The vanilla villain, always keep his train on the tracks
So give me the cheese, hit the floor, Reid all up in your ho
Bust the four-five, nosedive, you ain't make it out the door
Now we standin' toe-to-toe, but I can't stand a filthy ho
You ain't about this life so check yourself and get ghost
Oh, he ain't know? I curl hoes' toes with my flavor blasted flows
About enough dough to make a ocean explode
This ain't a joke, I ain't a TV show host
I'm with the 305, demon doin' the most
And while we on the subject, you're fuckin' with a suspect
He frontin' that we know that, we fuck him up in public
He probably off that Prozac, swingin' from my ballsack
Just got the .9 shined, bitch made, and you don't want that
You can't rap like me, mothafucka, I just started
Comin' to clean it up like Wahlberg in The Departed
So let me pass it off to the OG trendsetter
Microphone shredder (Yuh), y'all mothafuckas better (Yuh)
Follow me, follow me (Follow me)
I can show you everything you weren't supposed to see
Like your family in the sea with they feet all in concrete, bitch
Grab yo' daddy's gun and come with me
(Grab yo' daddy's gun and come with me)
Follow me, follow me (Follow me, woo)
I can show you everything you weren't supposed to see
Like a million in cash, grab the cheddar, better wear a mask
Outlaws in the cut, we 'bout to burn yo' ass
You don't want me to bring it back to my old ways
It's always my way, baby, all-day
It's my day today, I'm playin' with the AK (Brr, brr)
Got the .40 clappin' broad day like "A Bay Bay" (A Bay Bay)
I'm feelin' myself, forty thousand on the felt
I got a problem, can somebody get me help?
Better yet a belt, see me hangin' from my ceiling fan
No, I can't be your Superman 'cause I can't save myself
Baby Bone got a bone to pick with rappers
Thinkin' they slick, they quick to lick the dick
They jumpin' ship-to-ship, no loyalty
Money, money, money, yeah, the root of evil
Got me jumpin' over backwards like Evel Knievel
Let me die like Elvis, where I feel my safest
I just pray the opposition don't find where the safe is
My bitches don't get fed until they bring me bread
How many rappers in my city really want me dead?
Hate turn into jealousy, then it turn into bullets
I look my enemy in the eye, yellin', "Pussy, just pull it"
You 'bout that? I doubt that
I took your baby mama straight to outback
And blew her fuckin' back out, I'm 'bout that
Follow me, follow me (Follow me)
I can show you everything you weren't supposed to see
Like your family in the sea with they feet all in concrete, bitch
Grab yo' daddy's gun and come with me
(Grab yo' daddy's gun and come with me)
Follow me, follow me (Follow me, woo)
I can show you everything you weren't supposed to see
Like a million in cash, grab the cheddar, better wear a mask
Outlaws in the cut, we 'bout to burn yo' ass
Uh, yo, Hot Vodka
Pouya, Reid
In this bitch, uh
Tanner Stephen Petulla, known professionally as both Terror Reid and Getter, is an American DJ, rapper, and music producer from San Jose, California.
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