Ras Kass - Slap Season lyrics

rate me

(feat. Jelly Roll)

[Verse 1:]

They say men don't cry, but why this shit leakin' out my eye?

Every day's a good day to die

If I live each second, stand up straight

Man of a man, shit just don't add up

So what's really good? I can't tell

Got niggaz screaming "Church" going straight to Hell

In a red Testerossa, wild West coaster

Carry techs in holster, respect the Nostra

Fam like mafia, white polo t-shirted

Haters say the same shit like I ain't never hizzeard it

Yall niggaz is funny like Nick Cannon

Got a nickel-plated magnum, nick-named Nick Cannon

Hitman and tryin' not to spit random

Bust at even a phantom, ricocheted and hit Adam

Put Satan on my belt and my Force One swooshes

Never bit apple, blend the can with the juices

Fail the plan, you plan to fail

And the plan is to send my little man to Yale

And niggaz know they ain't fuckin' with that

Like what did the five fingers say to the face? Slap!

[Chorus:]

Just give me the reason, and I'll promise I'll make it your day (slap season)

My hands are so achey from slappin' these niggaz all day (slap season!)

Boy, I tried to tell you that I don't really play those games (slap season)

Ohhhhhh ohhhhhh ohhhhhhhh.... (slap season!)

[Verse 2:]

And you can think you know a nigga 'til he get a little fame

Believe me, [censored out] sold his soul in D.C.

Fucked me up though, gotta move on now

Step my game up, making product cologne now

Dumbin' out, minkin'

Bout to a custom made skunk, fur, hoody, and it ain't stinkin'

Yall know the biz, that's what it is

Got Wendy outta Capitol like I clapped on the bitch

Kept my masters, and let paper trail explain

Beat white corporate America at they own game

I'm a couple million dollars richer

Rap has got heads startin' to buy frames, yall get the picture

And before I go broke

I send the bitch on a flight with her baby in her tote

That ain't formula, bottles filled with liquified coke

Make the sign of the cross and die with the Pope

Float through Cali with die moves and blues

Non-affiliates and seranios too

Bulldogs, northerners, and Kumi

Prolly some other shit you never heard of somewhere in the boonies

Shiites and Sunnis, oosoes and goonies

Like Santa, I slide down your chimney, sprayin' a uzi

And niggaz know they ain't fuckin' with that

Like what did the five fingers say to the face? Slap!

[Chorus]