Hey yo! straight out the motherf#ckin’ lands of illville! that crazy m#th*rf#ck*r that’s still ill! these other m#th*rf#ck*rs acting as if they’re the real deal! but i will show you what the 33rd chamber’s like! g-i-b ain’t nothing to f#ck with! illville worldwide ain’t nothing to f#ck with! on demand ain’t nothing to f#ck with! hold up!
Break out the ouija board and summon me (summon me)
I’m underground, somehow you still under me
Haters looking salty indeed, as if for something sweet
Let’s just say it’s halloween, homie, i ain’t come for treats (i ain’t come for treats)
You thought i was soft? well you a trick, pal
Coming with that raw illville sick style
Still f#ck the gang, shе getting dick now
I feel like gza on the track with 36 album
No lovе in my heart, they like how come?
m#th*rf#ck*rs always prove i’m better off without them
Tell me why you talkin’ and typin’ ’bout what you don’t know
I’m killin’ rappers, they finally ’bout to folo
Every time that you rhyming, they thinking oh no
Engineer ain’t testing your timing ’cause you got no flow
You ain’t dissing on mines and i pay no mind though
Everything will be a-ok, i’m in my grind mode
Strength from the ville when i came to trust it
G-i-b ain’t nothing to f#ck with
Watered down, see, you’ll be kicking the bucket
G-i-b ain’t nothing to f#ck with
All up in your face and you still can’t touch it
G-i-b ain’t nothing to f#ck with
Hope you make it fat with no scratch or budget
G-i-b ain’t nothing to f#ck with
And they can talk all day if they want
’cause when i hit the stage i bet their lady wait in the front
So, let’s just spit the facts, i ain’t finna act like we the best
But how you gonna act like you finna snap when we up next?
Typin’ in the comments, i pop up and you could lose your thread
You ’bout as salty as all the thotties we leave on read
This a game of chess, small pawns when people check
Thinking this a checker table, your record label should reinvest
Illville in this b#tch, i don’t see no threats
Where are my dogs at? rip to dmx for real
Still ill at the most for real killing the flows
Call the coroner when we in the building at shows
Shoutout to the ogs who told me cash rules everything so i make it with my poetry
At night before i go to sleep write another sixteen
Put some sour in a dutchie, ain’t sh#t sweet?
Gibzilla came cold to crush it
G-i-b ain’t nothing to f#ck with
Rappers ain’t safe when he up in the function
G-i-b ain’t nothing to f#ck with
Get a knuckle sandwich with no ketchup or mustard
G-i-b ain’t nothing to f#ck with
I just spitting gas, hit the track and combust it
G-i-b ain’t nothing to f#ck with
Find more lyrics at westlyrics.com
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Gibby Stites Lyrics – 33rd Chamber