🎵 Last Days // by DJ Unknown

2 ContributorsLast Days Lyrics [Intro: Sean Price (Soul Kaliba AKA Shawn Jackson)] Yeah... Sean Price (Y’all niggas is fucking stagnating with flows) Hah, that’s it Yo Ayo, Unknown Mek... feel this, man (Y’all niggas is fucking under the rug, murk you all, bitch! Listen) Nice [Verse 1: Sean Price] I’m better with mines, Sean Price, remember this time I’m all that, jaw-tap, pa, Gregory Hines Strapped for the war, plus, I got a package of raw In the ass crack of this whore in the passenger door Y'all niggas is wack and you should be slapped with the four Shit like that be attracting the law, hmmm... Can't get knocked, better yet, can't get shot Bust a shot at the bad boy, can't be stopped Listen to my old shit, they be like, "Damn, they hot What happened to them niggas, man? They flopped" (Word?) Drinking and smoking, vice versa, smoking and drinking I'm hoping these Lincolns add up, I ain't supposed to be stinking Y'all niggas is farsighted, didn't notice the kingpin Up close in your face, bust toast in your face, nigga [Bridge 1: Samples with Scratches by DJ Unknown and DJ Mekalek] Now I’ll mold you back to the bitch that you are Fucking with the Ruckus, get bruised, battered, and scarred [Hook: Sean Price] We’ll slap you with ones, wacking you young rappers for fun I don’t be rapping for fun, I be rapping for funds I’m clapping my guns, packaging jumbs, crack in the slums Anything for the capital, son, repeat that Slap you with ones, wacking you young rappers for fun I don’t be rapping for fun, I be rapping for funds I’m clapping my guns, packaging jumbs, crack in the slums Anything for the capital, son, I’m a bastard [Verse 2: Soul Kaliba AKA Shawn Jackson] Y’all got some nuts to be thinking y’all touching me Basically, y'all brothers be Ugly like Bubba be singing you Swearing you repping lovely but you be clinging to feel that you chose Oh, you think you will, I suppose, right? Just hold tight, get a grip, don’t hold mics Proving you flow like a bitch or flow like just a nigga that claim he holding Just as good as my name is Soul and yours is like the one honey your lady roll with Mama done told this nigga, “Promise to focus” I, promise to blow shit, sit on top of the globe, bitch When on the mic, I’ll rock it Cop it if you like the poet If not, then eat a dick Put that in your pipe and smoke it Life is no joke, kid, and I ain’t laughing Leave you broke when we’re invading your airwaves, just watch and tune it direct From your home, even call-collect from your phone Request for your hometown favorites, Mek and Unknown [Hook: Soul Kaliba AKA Shawn Jackson] We’ll slap you with ones, wacking you young rappers for fun I don’t be rapping for fun, I be rapping for funds I’m clapping my guns, packaging jumbs, crack in the slums Anything for the capital, son, repeat that Slap you with ones, wacking you young rappers for fun I don’t be rapping for fun, I be rapping for funds I’m clapping my guns, packaging jumbs, crack in the slums Anything for the capital, son, it’s real [Verse 3: Sean Price] Listen I ain’t a rapper, I’ll just take time With a pad and a pen, a bag of weed, and I’ll make rhymes Y’all hate mine—that’s what I’m hearing through the grapevine But, with or without y’all niggas, I’ma make mine Why waste time responding about this and that? Yadda, yadda, yadda, get your gat Duke, I’m straight sick with that, smoke weed through a checkpoint And my plates say “DIPLOMAT”, listen! Y’all niggas ain’t reaching the kids You faggot fuck, add the beats, he lives, Michael Jackson [Outro: Soul Kaliba AKA Shawn Jackson & Sean Price] You do it, you do the knowledge on that DJ Mek, solidify, god Unknown, these niggas do not know Hahahahaha, I’m out, pah!