One Mic

[Intro]
Yeah, Hip Hop Weekly, C.O.B
Circle of Bosses
Yeah, they calling me a trendsetter
Lot of people doing these weekly freestyles now
But guess what

[Verse 1: Crooked I]
All I need is one week, one beat
One leak on the internet I bet me and my thugs eat
When words become speech, tongue cheek, front teeth
I'm describing a mouth that spits out young heat
But so many things I can't say or I incriminate myself
Who feeling the same way
See I met Jay-Z and Nas both on the same day
Around the time of the beef, look at the games fate play
The whole shit was I see
Both them niggas probably missed each other by seconds in that hotel lobby
Jay told me your here now, no looking back
If you do it's a wrap, what you want, this or that
That being my past, this being bigger stacks
I appreciated the game cause a lot of niggas wack
They don't want to see you on top clocking some dinero
In Long Beach we call the niggas lobsters in a barrel
They rather see you stashing crack rocks in your Camaro
Watching for cops, keeping loaded Glocks in your apparel
Chest out ready for the next drought on the guap
Left out of hip hop, stressed out on the block
First nigga who testing get X-ed out on the spot
Techs out, let's count how many drop 1-2-3
I'm hearing niggas want to put some slugs through me
Murder one, who me? Before I leave I need
One week, one beat
To show you I'm as lethal as the shit I keep under my front seat
I'm out on that creep, mama thinking her son's sleep
Gotta get something to eat, rain, snow, sun, sleet
Getting that paper homey, making them mad
You see the hood, yeah that's an ape taking a bath
You see the Evisu jeans, pistol making them sag
You'll really be beside yourself when I break you in half
It's a heavy holster thing, big ass gun
So it makes my shoulder lean just like Young Dro
On the corners mean trying to see them funds though
Niggas on the scene, they hating on young bro
The jealousy virus'll leave you dead in the ground
Quarantine the whole hood cause it's spreading around
When you're poor as a peasant, haters are never around
When you're up, fill your extended clip with seventy rounds
I rather be in the booth shitting on whoever thing they the truth
Making MCs bring me the proof
Or either sitting in the seats of my coupe
Fresh off tour, fuck going to war with my enemy troops
In the trenches anything can happen
That can alter your future, have you doing anything but rapping
Might have to kill a nigga when them things are clapping
Police captain harassing whoever seen what happened
Been in real live shoot outs, no lying or fronting
I'm thinking this is it God, if it's my time I'm coming
I'm returning fire, I'm running trying to find me something
To hide behind, while nines are dumping down
Will I last one week, one week on these punk streets
What's beef? Beef is when niggas bust heat
We all hungry, now you looking like lunch meat
One breach of the G code, that's when our guns meet
That's why I never let this rap game get to me
Cause what they call drama really ain't shit to me
When I met Pac he told me make history
So this is history in the making
Peace, see you niggas next week