Air ’Em Out lyrics

[Ras Kass]
Jea! Re-Up! A J-Classic classic. Razzy... rest in peace Justo
I'm about to air these n*ggas out one time

[Verse 1]
Yo yo, ain't no n*gga like the one right here
Spit flames, leave bloodstains on one night gear
G-Star jeans, gun right near
And the homey X just f*cked Usher's b*tch like "Yeah!"
Dawg I'mma spit the hottest sh*t
f*ck a dentist, eat a fire department and proctologists
Ras Kass, King of the West, acknowledge this
And get a piece of the rock like meteorogologists
What Dame Dash and hapha is
645 Coupe the same color Chewbacca is
And you's a n*gga everybody hates like Jar Jar Binks
That clown at the bar buying hot b*tches drinks
And she's passin' them to me
What you know about Chinchilla minks? Ten killers deep
Skittle flavored diamonds, first it's blue, then it's pink
Candy painting was off, dog we floodin' the streets

[Hook 1]
I
WILL
NOT
LOSE
I (RE-UP about that fetti)
WILL (Load up your Glocks, get ready)
NOT
LOSE (haha... jea jea jea!)
[Hook 2]
Hood n*ggas if your arms up, bear it out
n*ggas ain't scared, if it's drama, we gon' air 'em out!
If your whip on chrome, what you carin' 'bout?
Drop the top, do a buck 10, dawg, air 'em out!
Who spit flame, n*gga never doubts?
No problem, it's nothing, I'mma air 'em out
East, West, up North to the Dirty South (air 'em out)
I'mma (air 'em out), I'mma (air 'em out)

Yo

[Verse 2]
I keep sh*t off the chain
Like broken clasp, medallions fallin' off
And yall n*ggas hopin' Ras go play on the freeway
But I'm that agent in the Matrix: Reloaded
Jumpin' out movin' cars, smashin' your hoods for the keys, man
And not the ones that open doors
Por fa vor, I'm talkin' ki, mayne
Silencer on the SPK, f*ck BDS them f*ckin' MTV VJ's
R&B singers, new found fact
Got a 9 inch di*k, tell your b*tch to SoundScan that!
And my Down South cats be like "What it do?"
Cause my little cousin's bein' Memphis classic blue
And n*ggas still ga-not ga-knowin' as Gary ga-Knew(???)
Plus I'm more Chris Real so long with Big Punished brew
Downstairs in Jimmy's Cafe, album released
Young n*gga in the belly, but now I'm a beast
And it's like Sin City, every town holdin' heat
So I'm like the yellow n*gga, kid it's foul when I speak
And my baby moms said I need to cut down on my cheatin'
Started f*ckin' midgets, kept creepin'
You ain't gotta tell me, I know you feelin' this sh*t
I hear what I'm sayin' I know I'm killin' this sh*t, n*gga
[Hook 2]

[Verse 3]
Sometimes it all seems f*cked up though
Rest in peace, cause what's mixtapes without Justo?
Sip the' Grey Goose, thinkin' about that ride on the Gray Goose
Ankles chained, headin' to Beirut
Crucified next to some n*gga named Jesus
Died ressurected, bustin' blue, still trey-deuced
So yall n*ggas better respectognize sh*ts real
When my mixtape's hotter than every album this year

[Hook 1] + [Hook 2]