I'm Not Perfect

This the made or nothing

The game is ours

We'll never foul out

Y'all just better hope we gracefully bow out

The heat is in the oven nigga

(Bake em, bake em)

Let's cook it

It's about time nigga, I've been waiting

This the made or nothing

Everybody know that already

Shouts out to siccs

Come on now little Todd

You don't even bang in the hood

Got the G homies thinking that you came from the hood, nigga

Run up in your residential

Meth lab, next stab

Cut a path-able

Right up your green Nova

Next chapter

Hold on

Net page, got the AK murder capital

Put out the magazine, left your [?] and toe tagging em

I'm the last of the dying breed, cardiovascular

I'm eating nine paths of divine meat

Your acting, screenplay

Movie illusion when you're rapping

He's safe, except for the children we will snatch em

Kidnap

Shit acting, click-clacking

Stick em in the back

Shit happens here captain

(Ooh time to eat)

I spit tactical verses who get bit Dracula

We're the most spectacular rappers to hit Sacramento

I mean half of the central

Put the mask on and take the mask off

It don't matter I'm in you

Quick to slash all of em

I'm not perfect

But I know

Analyze the lyrics, he's so cold

You know how they got ya

Nigga we at ya

That's why I tell em

I'm not perfect

Trust me, but I know

Analyze the lyrics, he's so cold

You know I had to get ya

Nigga we at ya

Okay

I got-got em

I'm about to ride em

Put it on his daughter

I slide to the bottom

Bottom-feed, catfish

Shit, giving out lobotomies

I'mma be at this shit

With no toilet paper

Vamp at the window with the pistol

Busting at your scraper

Just in case it ain't a rap thing, bullets will scrape ya

A lot of icing on the ground, nigga better get your cake up

But you want me to rip it, flip it

Turn em into tidbits and fix it

Burn em and believe it, I'm gifted

Leave a nigga something for Christmas (merry christmas)

If I got it it'll happen

A lot of bitches rapping like a motherfucking captain

A lot of vicious clapping I'm a motherfucking clapper

Put your lights out PG & E what happened?

Fixed the problem, I'mma get my Green Goblins

It's the dawn, you better get your green outta this

I'm not perfect

But I know

Analyze the lyrics, he's so cold

You know how they got ya

Nigga we at ya

That's why I tell em

I'm not perfect

Trust me, but I know

Analyze the lyrics, he's so cold

You know I had to get ya

Nigga we at ya

Mr. Made can't get lit like Atlanta

Carve your face up in a Jack-O-Lantern pattern

Make your boys scatter like roaches when the lights on

Hit the back door, shoulda been sleeping with his Nike's on

I'mma get his life gone

Pull the plug on em

Someone turn the mic on

Bet I spill his blood on em

I'mma split his wig like a pig with dairy, eat shit

Bury a deep dish, carried by at least six

And I'm at least sick, if I'm not terminal

I spit the aged disease to a nigga furthermore

I let the burners go

Just like the heaters on

I pop shots just like Lebron in the Heater zone

Until they bleeding on it

So sorry for the grief at home

But the way that nigga speak like to the creeping on

I can spit that fast shit

That run up on a nigga this cash shit

That hit him with a mag, put him in a bag, throw him in the back, take him off to the trash shit like

I'm not perfect

But I know

Analyze the lyrics, he's so cold

You know how they got ya

Nigga we at ya

That's why I tell em

I'm not perfect

Trust me, but I know

Analyze the lyrics, he's so cold

You know I had to get ya

Nigga we at ya

I'm a little twisted and it's not a game

Gas like propane off this José and there's no way he's insane

I'm the best I believe in the Brains

E-E-T

Staying in the street

When the homies got heat that'll put you to sleep

There's guts on the seats and blood that seats been gone for weeks

I'mma subliminal criminal

Slicing your nipples

Knife will go into you try to speak on a made

Million paid and filleted

Brains decayed in the grave

And the spit sound the same

He hating cause Lynch strange

He gone start a rap war

Just to try to get some fame

And I'm leaving him

They sick of us ripping this

Clitoris licking up

Venomous syndicate then they get a little bit crazy

Porn in the 80s

Stick to the babies

Pit-bull with rabies, no-one can save me

They've tried

No-one can save him

He's fried

Machete to belly, there's meat in the deli

He died

Have em spark him like a re-fry

To make a motherfucker realize

I'm not perfect

But I know

Analyze the lyrics, he's so cold

You know how they got ya

Nigga we at ya

That's why I tell em

I'm not perfect

Trust me, but I know

Analyze the lyrics, he's so cold

You know I had to get ya

Nigga we at ya

So we gotta hit em up like P-folks when I bang em

Exchanging round for round

It's the made Sicc middle weight

Pound for pound

I'm on fire

But still feeling down for another couple of rounds

I'mma tell one us fucked up, I'm hitting the ground

See I'm hungry

Now I'm in the kitchen with something to fricassee and I'm trying to cook something as sick as he

Add a little bit of Cayenne and Turmeric powder

A little bit of slit wrists and some neck-bone chowder

Now that's a meal

Hold up

See I's keeping is real

I see you clean your plate

And why you hating me still?

See I meant

I'm not perfect

But I got the perfect this situation

I'mma take this handwriting get to scraping

By the way got something baking

Just give me a sec

Fuck it, give me insults, don't feed off respect

So I'mma eat him up until a bone gets stuck in my neck

I'm the jaws of life you stuck in a wreck

Cause made sick I'm so strange

I'm not perfect

But I know

Analyze the lyrics, he's so cold

You know how they got ya

Nigga we at ya

That's why I tell em

I'm not perfect

Trust me, but I know

Analyze the lyrics, he's so cold

You know I had to get ya

Nigga we at ya