Nick Grant Freestyle - LA Leakers Freestyle #141

[Verse 1: Nick Grant]
Life is funny they respect who would lie in they face
Then turn around and disrespect who would die in they place
The more gray hairs the more you realize your mistakes
Death is traumatizing, I’m the wide-eyed child at the wake
Rather ask for forgiveness than permission
Streets are promiscuous, they fuck us over in these trenches
From where they ran base with short stops swinging for fences
Back when Benzes was symbols for drug dealer visions, twisted
I’m from where niggas’ feet are planted but the flowers don’t bloom
Shame when my friends saw my parents fight after school
I just looked up to the sky while niggas stared at my blues
It made me insecure, why I wasn’t controlling these rooms
Project nigga starving I just see hope in this pantry
Relationships gon’ always fold if there’s no understanding, yeah that’s a quote from my granny
That was my heart, that was my rock and I took her for granted
You fall in love with these streets you’s a hopeless romantic, crackers treat us short of the standard
Clutching ya’ handle, bitch I thought you was tough but you panicked
They out here busting I can’t make this up
You either pussy or G but either way you fucked
I was so lost and misguided ain’t know which way to trust
Now I pull up and make the neighbors blush
And bitches beg to spend the night like they my favorite cousin
Marginalized, still we healing from these paper cuts
Even when riding public transit I was trained to bust
Nose-job on the barrel I had to face destruction
I learned young man, the loudest niggas ain’t ‘bout nothing
I’m living in color, tell ‘em meet me at the weigh-in brother
For real a hustler, don’t believe these rappers they dreaming, all this shit, fictitious
Got ya’ bitch on the couch, switching positions, like a Simpson
All I see is green, Donnie Simpson, bet that
If you ain’t mean to kill him you ain’t really urned him like, nepotism
I grew up with shooters, looters, hustlers with stash spots
Ya’ legs don’t match ya’ mouth, don’t get ya’ ass shot
Every verse is out the glass jar, worried faces like, Pac in his last photograph if you ask
Hoe, I died a legend
Mafia presence, mob ethics
Need a model with Solange essence, wild child negligence what’s ya’ preference?
It’s either I fuck wit’ you or don’t fuck wit’ you
Vision clear like Mrs. Huxtable, still untouchable nigga
This how you flow when you lived through shit
A lot of niggas came and went but I’m still that shit
A lot of movies in the making nigga film that shit
I box ‘em in with these quotes like a yearbook pic
Competition who? Tell ‘em don’t get involved
Cocaine killer flow, one size fitting all
All them styles I got they praying a nigga fall
Home of the skinny niggas that shop at the big and tall
Real nigga seminar, slimmer but Biggie Smalls
Don’t deal wit’ no clown hoes but they juggle the dick and balls, I’m still at war
New drop slam the top like a flip phone
Niggas chewing dick for the bread, I call that bitcoin
From where they slide on you, I come from the trigger pop
Where the feds come and have younguns running like nigga not
Life’s a bitch but they flirting with death to get aroused
Gotta draw the line ‘tween you and ‘nem ‘cause shit is foul, damn
Like a art show I draw the tool first
I disagree when they said the slums a true curse
Dice game, next thing niggas heard, was a tool burst
You get ya’ man but watch ‘em spin the block like they Kool Herc
Easy work, easy work, easy work

[Verse 2: Nick Grant]
I know ya’ heard I’m from a southern land
Uh, I’m the man fuck ya’ other man
Niggas out here big capping like they Uncle Sam
Niggas out here bankrupt tryna money-dance
Hold up, shit’ll get ugly mister lover man
Shabba, you see the shit a nigga up against?
I’m timeless, just surviving through them sucker trends
I’m back jumping like the younger Vince
Who let the haters in the lovers’ den
Where triggers squeeze and they hug the strip
I’m Gucci nigga please don’t attempt
That mean I got the G’s in this bitch
The big body, ain’t no Lil’ Cease in this bitch
I pass through like I lead the league in assists
It’s going up like George and Weezy in this bitch
It’s mapped out in case one of these niggas trip
I feel like Yeezy wit’ a sample how I make it flip
Know that, I park the new shit catty-corner
Told her I’ma wear her out I’m a fashion junkie
Flow coke pure like I got a bag from Tony
Leave no prints when they shoot and hit the apple on ya’
I’m such a threat that my success could hurt feelings
But ain’t nobody fucking wit’ me boy I’m third-wheeling
All my niggas used to pitch like Curt Schilling
The fish-fry killer, leave you on a shirt nigga
Know that, got intuition never went to college
Laughing in these banks, I could pull a slimmer Tyra
All these bitches in the casa, I’m dripping salsa
When I put this game on her it’s a chimichanga
When I get the call it got ya’, I’m in the tropics
I ain’t never been nowhere, bitch I’m from the projects
Know my niggas gon’ ride, O.J. in the Bronco
I like all my women smart but they coming topless
Bend it over spread it open fuck me like some gossip
I don’t drip bitch I splash on ‘em this is spa shit
Snub-nose ringing off like it’s Dennis Rodman
Bad bitch get dolled up baby this is child’s play, yeah
Down the highway listening to Sade
I was never lazy but they looking sideways
Yeah you know the vibe baby hit a lick, how it taste
[?] and wash ya’ hands as she hand me my plate
Hold on, I’m a freedom fighter, success is how I compete with rivals
The nigga who could barely read became a genius writer
[?] Giovanni and Givenchy [?]
Different from these critics and ignorant feature write-ups
The overseer told the slave to read the Bible, jealousy could feed a psycho
My nigga listen I never wanted to be like Michael
I’m too persistent like tryna fuck a freak on her cycle
Another lost when the sirens bleed through the night ‘do
Befriending white folks
But granny told me don’t mix those colored wit’ white clothes
Somehow I chose integrity over ya’ light-show
I had to be in before the spark of the light pole
Never have I stood on tables of label execs
‘Cause everything ain’t ‘bout yo’ money, just play wit’ a check
The more you independent the more they dangle a check
Marketers don’t pay attention to what they say on the net
I talk what I know ‘do, more sauce on risotto
If I leave I bet they miss me like Ye in the Polo
Fuck rich I’m talking wealthy as Russ doing yoga
Country nigga I get love from the Gump to the Noya
Carolina nigga but shit even Brooklyn know us
Shout to all the women that knew me before the glow-up
You were lessons to treat the future one like the FLOTUS
Life is precious I could feel my auntie getting older
One just lost a child, and I provide a shoulder
For oceans of tears, no bridge big enough to get over her
My pen bleeds memories of fallen soldiers, I told ya’
Nigga this for the culture nigga, uh
Fuck the internet I’m into net worth
Benevolent being, still I could spot a devil in church, heaven on earth
Never force it if it’s destined it works
Never jealous of another man’s possessions, death is a flirt
Glad you ain’t leaving shit that’s what the hood said
The only way I dumb it down is a blonde wit’ good head
Yeah, product of free lunch, take a profit and re-up
My soul trained for the bullshit, I’m Don Cornelius
Kill the king and burn the mausoleum, only Martin could free us
Never take orders from dick-riders and gossip-readers
Nigga kill a nigga they IG it
People kill a nigga they side wit’ evil
The nigga that was hating on me’s begging for a feature
The game is so deceiving, when they show you who they are, please believe ‘em
LA Leakers