Zeze Freestyle Lyrics - Joyner Lucas

Heard yo grandmama kicked you out the house
Screaming Tory we dont F*** need you
Why yo daddy up and leave you? Why
I guess this is how they F*** treat you
And you my puppet you my cousin skeeter
This ain’t what you wanted they been waiting for it

I’m Joyner Lucas what the f*** you ns take me for
I pull up in a demon but I kill Satan for it
If you want attention Tory you gon have to pay me for it
All these hoes love me but you sucking ns hate me for it
You roll up on me catch a shot at a Mercedes door
The bullets fly you replying like a lazy boy
All you do is cry you a child you my baby boy
You call yourself Tory after The Notorious Big
Biggie turning in his grave when he hear yo sit
Dont ever think that you could ever come compare yo sit
Little girls and kids only want to feel yo sit
I skipped the plaques on my way to a Grammy
All your records soft and sweet ns think that you candy
Your ns really convinced you that you think you can scare me
And you got identity issues ns think you a tranny really?

Tory tell us why you always gotta lie in your rhymes
I know keeping up with lies can get tiring sometimes
You not a G and deep down you wanna hide sometimes
Staring at the sunshine and start crying sometimes
Your real name is Daystar you been dying to shine
And when you sing it kinda sound like you dying sometimes
You make the type of tracks that make me silent inside
Nobody take you serious put all the violence aside
Okay lets talk about your plagiarism that you hate to mention
Or talk about the hate you giving to the greats you dissing
And that writer who wrote yo sit still ain’t get paid on that Dont Die record
You should probably go pay that na
How the f$$$ you gonna talk about Kendrick when he a legend
Then go bite the na style on your record right at the ending
A 4 A.M flex 2 minute and 50 second sound exactly like
the Art of Peer Pressure go take a listen
You inspired by the ns you name dropped
Catch fire in the rain no umbrella to shelter you and no rain drops
When I seen you on Flex I gave props

But we found out you stole Don Q sit from the train stop
You thought you were fly til the plane drop
Ugly mr tryna stunt in a tank top
It’s no wonder why they used to feed yo as with a slingshot
You my son this the last time thati’m ever giving you a ring pop
Sit down you on punishment
And don’t get up until you see me
And don’t even think about touching that TV
No more video games no more phone no more 3D

No more radio or boombox for your weak as CD
Matter fact give me your chains back and everything
that I bought you
You a disgrace to this family and everything that I taught you
I hate to say it son but you make me sick
I shoulda knew you werent st when you came out with a baby dk
Its no wonder why you pay for py
Tory you think you slick
All you do is lounge around the house all day like a lazy pk
St highly disappointed in you son I need some answers
How come you couldn’t follow in my steps and be a dancer?
Or maybe write a book like me or be somebodys grandpa
Instead you wanna be a F**** rapper with some hair plugs
No more rapping give me your pen and paper
No more lying to the people how you the biggest gangster
Now hurry up and get your juicy out the refrigerator
You going to bed at eight oclock and not a minute later
No I dont wanna hear it
No let this be a lesson
Close your mouth and go into your room like I suggested
I’m a get real Joe Jackson in a second
Matter of fact give me your toys
I’m a add to the collection
I just did a show and got it lit little na
And my freestyles killing your originals ne
Couldn’t name a bh I couldn’t get little na
You a rebound even Scottie Pippen know na
You ain’t from Toronto put that on the Bible
I put six hollows inside your Ferragamo
Na you from Brampton go spin a bottle
Bh youre from New England me and Brady in the El Dorado
Now come get on my level i’m hard as metal
I bomb the ghetto I brought the shovel
I bury all of you ninja turtles
You Donatello you soft as jello
You must be going with that off that amaretto
Its hardi to tell cause you soft as pillows
You F*** midget I call you Elmo
I throw you out a F*** car window
I step all over your Margiello you caught feelings
Yo heart spinning my bars illing
I’m Bob Dylani’m John Lennon i’m authentic
Your bars running no off limits
Don’t talk business don’t talk listen
I’m off this so you f$$$ this you f$$$! Na
What na
F$$$ out my face na
Aaye na look
We gonna get one in pause
Lets not do this back and forth sit no more
I I think we know whats up you know
Ha ha ha Joyner….