Corrección Letra No Tolerance par Nems

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Letra

(Statik Selektah)
Paul Wall
Say man, call the funeral home, man
Have 'em on standby, man
'Bout to kill this sh*t
Ayy, ayy
Paul Wall, Statik

Wordplay superlative
Statik on the track, you murdered it
I'm all thorough, that's affirmative
Being fake, no, I ain't for that sh*t
I'm going flawless all permanent
I'm known to turn heads like a tourniquet
I turn your b*t*h, now she turning tricks, I turn rich
I told my son, "Watch out, the game could get merciless"
I'm on the [?] 5-9, Whitney Mercilus
Not having my bread ready, that can be [?]
I'm all over the paper, yeah, I'm quite like a journalist
And first before you diss, understand this
I'm too busy worriеd 'bout me

Granted I took a lot for granted but I managеd to vanish before commitment [?] me
pucker up, kiss-a** n***a
No bad liver, my lungs leaking this gas though
Tadpoles caught in a maze, B-line to black hole
Three dollars [?] was on my dresser, ho
Let me know, serve a revenge cold
Warm it up for no souls [?]
I used to play [?], ayy
And copped the [?] for me
If you ain't got it I got you but you gotta get busy
My n***a [?] fall through we split the [?]
That's how we stay together, learn from the [?]
Just [?] when I asked for [?]
Let's talk about it, get descriptive like you talk to the lord
I couldn't vouch if I ain't see you do it, cut down the noise
I hate to see it but these n***as f**k boys, they [?]
(F**k ya life) Where ya mask at?
You know the f**kin' vibes, you ain't even gotta ask that
Feeding fiends percocets like they had a bad back
Laughing at the game 'cause all of these rappers a** crack (Haha, f**k outta here)
Corona left some of y'all exposed
Can't survive three months without doing shows
Rappers that's lesser known, you hit him up for a spot on your mixtape
That's how we know you broke, you d**k face
Pay homage when you see me, it's the f**kin' god
You never been up north, how you rappin' 'bout the [?]
Talkin' like you hard but I know that you b***
I'll smack the Reme off of your hat then ask you  "What's up?" (Supreme is garbage)
F**k your life, the only brand that I rock (Facts)
Live from Coney Island, we be blaming the cops (Brrr)
I only f**ked shorty 'cause her man was a opp
I knocked him out of his shoes like he had cancerous socks

I'ma keep it [?] with you
Every word official, don't let this burner lift you
Set you up, go and send a little bird to kiss you
With a German pistol full of murder missiles
These rappers washed up, who I gotta clean next?
Momma in the church weeping in the Kleenex
You insane if you thinkin' that it's me next
PTSD stretch you off a reflex
Before they ever Shazam'd me it was [?]
Ran up in them panties, had 'em poppin' them plan B's
Foul gentlemen, burner under the letterman
With ketamine peddlin' for presidents, we devilish
War ready, leave 'em all buried, extraordinary
Pennin' heavy get 'em all ready for the cemetery
Them rappers that you love, they love me like Bun B
And f**k the police, they can't defund me
F**k the-f**k the police

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