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Nasaan – Without Me Freestyle Lyrics

Nasaan – Without Me Freestyle Lyrics
Nasaan – Without Me Freestyle Lyrics

Nasaan – Without Me Freestyle Lyrics. [Intro] Nasaan, I’m like: “Pause”
Niqqa, why is Marshall out f–kin’ youth in my closet?
He ain’t say sh*t about a motherf**kin’ closet,

you just say go get [?] Hey, Nasaan, we’re ready (Fu–)

[Verse 1] I created an assh-le, d–khead of Detroit
But my d!ck international, enough with the bad jokes
My niqqa it’s Nasaan b!tch quit calling me “Nassan”
Balls two of a kind might unbuckle and flash both
Skinny ole me with double blondies
Double the D’s, eat the meat
Party of 3, party at 3, part of me dying to parting this scene
(This shits boring)
Clip Michael Jordans, .223’s
Trick up my sleeve, grabbing her cheeks ease with these features
(You like paint?)
Your face great for Mon’ Lisa’s
No saint I roll dank with your preacher
And rob banks with Rob Banks and John Cena
Lucifers henchman, Satanic mission
Paul told me join, we do 666 sh*t (Me?)
F–k on ya big sis? That’s so ridiculous
Just coincidence her lipstick on my d–k tip
Wait, wait I’m honest, wouldn’t lie to you Judah
‘Kay maybe she mooned me like a couple of boobs
And she maybe blew me like a orchestra tuba
Hold on this my dad, ni**a calling from Cuba (Hello?)
F**k my mood up, flush em, suit up
Chew up a rap ni**a, chump a crew in my chucks
My shape isn’t in tip top? Then who saving hip hop? (YBN Cordae?)
Bit-h you sound stupid as f–k

[Verse 2] Why you rooting that up?
Cause Em and Dre boosting it up?
Happy for him to say the least, but niggas doing too much
Screwing shit up, like I won’t put that crew on a crutch
F**k these new school niqqas, I enroll I’m shooting shit up
I get discredit cause my lineage
F–k all that golden child, and pity sh-t
More proud than Penny is
West side where ni–as bang more tribe than Indians
Red dots on ni–as like Japanese flag symbolist
Now I wake up to Dominicans
Asking “What were going to do today?” Like I’m Ferb and they Phineas

Swerving out the dealership, working my percentages
Came from 44’s, 40 ounces, Carti’s and Timberlands
Been on some different sh-t, different sticks and different envisioning
These different Benjamins, britches thick as a business syllabus
Gotta different sentiment
Swallow me, harder than that cinnamon
Army full and bit-hes and I’m the Marshall
Start calling me Eminem
Him and him, cut ’em up stit-h up, I’m talking hemming em
Blending in, can’t see me men to men like I’m a Endermen
Took my nigga XXXtentacion, but left f**king Zimmerman
If I catch him he get “Drum roll please”
Brr, brr
Vigilance help kept me innocent when I was in to shit
Was spending bins, before the Benjamins
From label middle men
Before the LSD, and DMT, Mollies and Ritalin (Hey)
Before you mention me in anything thing
Make sure your- (Hey)

[Outro] Are you dumb bitchin’?
-Ni**a, what you want?
-We gotta get this white boy out of my closet, he won’t shut the f**k up

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