100 Yard Dash - Ab-Soul

Everybody get the fuck down now

Soul in the building

Yeah, we taking everything

Everything you got

Hit the deck I need everything you possess

I suggest you cooperate for this tech

Send you to the doctor to operate

You complicate my scheme to get rich

I’ll put this heat to your T, let it steam a little bit

Look, when the chips get low, my fifth just blow

Anything that I could pawn, come about that, dog

It’s money to be made and if you got it I’m taking it

Just run it like a Jamaican and shut the fuck up, nigga

And that might leave more than a rash

I’m coming for your ass

Please hand me the cash

Cause when I’m down on my last

I gotta re-up fast

Point me to your stash

Don’t make me say it again

Before I lay you with Reagan, Benjamin Franklin, and them

Frankly I’m a menace

In fact I’m ready to blast

So whatever you got, run it

Like a 100 yard dash

Coming for you

Don’t let me catch you slipping in that pretty whip you dip in

You would get pulled out

Like my dick in these women when I’m finna bust, don’t test my clout

Your execution is a must, no doubt

For the longest niggas been taking my kindness for weakness

But this trigger is killing me and I’m just dying to squeeze it

Fire for hire, don’t let your murder transpire

Thinking you will live forever like a fucking vampire

I arose from the dark to claim everything you own

And there’s nothing between us but opportunity and this chrome

It don’t take a genius to know I mean this, so ante up

Before I load the cannon up and blow your ass to Canada

Nigga

I’m wild with it, pistol whip whoever’s in the house with it

Call the cops, tell 'em like a date, I’m going out with it

Give me the goods, give me the hand me downs

Tell your wife to pull her panties down

I need those too, what you gon' do?

Don’t jeopardize your life, for the nigga hard body made of cement

Plus I’m loaded like this clip, off of the Seagrams

Lay you on the floor like granite

Granted your granny watching, I’m grinning like I ain’t just hit 'em

Better believe it, my head’s sort of off, shit

I would have robbed Jesus for the cross if I caught him slipping

God forgive him for this long arm like Pippen

The cars honk but times is hard hard and I gotta eat

Give me the watch, the Sean-John, even your sneaks

Give me your socks, your drawers, your fitted, your Boost minutes

Give me your stocks, your bonds, your blunts, your bongs

Your food in the fridge, your iPod, your celly

You say I’m wrong but I’m deadly

That’s dead wrong so I’m heavy

Like Chris Wallace, regardless

You’re getting stuck up, pussy

Like a tampon with a handgun, push me

But I ain’t on the swings, I got this infrared beam and it wouldn’t miss a thing

Bow!

Chyea!

Rose

I got you nigga

I want everything

I want the jewels, the watches, the bling bling, all that shit

All y’all little niggas getting your chains robbed

I’m on you

I’m just playing y’all, I wouldn’t hurt a fly

Came out dope though

Carson arsonist

Yeah, it’s funny that you say Carson-Carson arsonist

That’s where you’re from right?

Carson?

Yes, yes sir

Where is that exactly?

If I looked on a map, where would I be lookin'?

Carson is right in between Compton and Long Beach

Shout out to Carson, Del Amo, that’s where I’m from though, DA