Vest UpMr. Sisco

Hook
You wanna test us?
You better put your vest up
It's lots of hatred in the streets
My nigga fess up
You wanna test us?
You better put your vest up
It's lots of hatred in the streets
My nigga fess up

Verse 1: Kold Blooded
I smoke herb all day
Fuck what a hater say
Washed up ass rappers always talking about that gun play
You can't even hang against this verbal apocalypse
Always causing online drama
Still they music sound like shit
I got money on it
Smoking blunts forever got "twenty" on it
Fuck a "dub"
I smoke way more bud then your ass could afford and
Rip 'em up
Actually, fuck a Ripp
Bitch, I will stick 'em up
I'm blasphemous
Having all these snitches wanna give it up
Schema the posse
I'll burn up yo body
My words are more deadly than all of
You wanna best all put together
You're better off dead
Keep talking shit and I'll go for your head
End a motherfucker's life for thinkin' that he hard
Now You dealing with the schemas
When you fuckin' wit da gawd
When I ride I glide
Wit a sword on my side
Whether day or the night
You don't wanna collide, motherfucker

Verse 2: GHOSTEMANE
Skinny young kid with them big buck teeth and [?] on top sitting on chrome d's
Had a nine-mili
Never seen a precinct
So I keep a twenty two on me
But I'm quick to hit a motherfucker with a bat
Talk back
Get slapped to the ground, on me
I recall a time when I had less hate in my heart before these fucking hypebeasts
I'm starting shit but best believe I finish it without a trace
Bury you up in your yard next to your cat that died in second grade
Death to all of the jits that don't got shit but judge like Judy Sheindlin
I'ma fall asleep tonight to Superjail looking at the ceiling
I'm living what you rap about
Shoutout to Juicy J
Keep on giving bitches shopping money till they give you brain
Me? I don't give a damn, kid
But I got no hoe, better get your shit
Schema that clique
Don't fuck with a bitch that ain't up on they hustle tip, uh

Verse 3: Mr. Sisco
Niggas be hating but I just be waiting for niggas to pop off with all of they shit
Run with the clique and we bobbin' so thick and we up in your track and we moving that bitch
Run with [?] and Ghoste so they coming to kill and we leaving them up in the smoke
I be the Jesus that's black
Killing them all
Leaving them comatose
Lyrical [?]
I'm dropping these niggas
They [?] and reaching for views
I'm done with they shit so it's up to you
Please tell me what you wanna do
I'm the king of the funky, bitch
I been dropping funky hits
Live to a little, bitch
Bucking niggas that fuck they [?]
Leaving niggas with fucking stitches
I'm digging them fucking ditches
I'm playing with crucifixes
I'm cursing all in my vision
My mind is so fucking twisted but I'm just a-fucking-dicted
I [?] and fucking lifted
That herb got me seeing spirits, shit