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Lyrics St. Louis Alumni by Ali lyrics

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(feat. St. Louis Alumni) [Intro: Ali] Check it out, my name is Ali I roll with them Lunatics You know us, know what I'm sayin' But what you might not know Is we got a lot of MC's in St. Louis So we gon' do it like this First up we got my man Jewely!!! [Jewely] Now what's a grand finale If you ain't drinkin' grams in Cali? El Caminos on toners Hotel Nico with Mona, weed from Pamona And any ghetto catch this St. Louis nigga on the corner

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My persona known to leave rappers in a coma So faggotts stop the grinnin', them chrome rims reflect The hate in your face as you see em spinnin' MC's are screamin', "No mo' shoutouts" through nine innin's I'm drama, like two baby mommas and one pendin' This here rapper split up your vest, cause the shit I'm packin' Dawg'll knock your heart out your chest Rappers suffer from cardiac arrest If I'm uncomfortable I dump a few You niggas are actin' like, I won't send em to the afterlife This is Judah Zor, a hard act to follow Murderous clique nigga, known as desperado. [Ali] Up next, Hillsdale representative

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My nigga M.K.!!! [M.K.] You knew what time it was soon as you stepped in the door Bitches gigglin' and pointin', and whisperin', "There he go!" Where he go? Me I be loungin' between the ice Sippin' Don P with a dime piece right! Whisperin' in my ear about menage a trois Us and her partners, El Passe panties and bras Freaky deaky baby I'm lovin' that Dig the way that you think, them your partners? Get them a drink, shit one bitch was strippin' Cause she didn't get picked, but baby We roll with time, it's only rippin' the six, trick Minutes later nigga rollin' four deep

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Them bitches tonguin' in the back I'm gettin' some head up in the frontseat She like, "I got this" you control the cockpit While her partners in the back sixety-ninin' tradin' cock spit. [Ali] Up next, we got that hazel-eyed heartthrob Miss Fo' Reel, Penelope!!! [Penelope] Hot like fire, makin' these niggas yearn Don't be stressin' me dirty, you got shit to learn How to keep these seven zeroes that's my only concern Put a torch to these hoes, make these bitches burn Stern, as I handle my grit, talk mo' shit

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Spit, and let my fo-fo rip, so bitch don't slip Don't make me put a lump on your lip A dip in your hip, I'm snatchin' your shit I want it all so give me it Am I a Luna-chic? Uh huh, I'm a looney bitch More deadly than the venom that some anacondas spit The Marilyn Monroe, of the ghetto I'm a sucker for cornrows, niggas in Timbos hey (I got old Timbos mama, let me, let me, can I hit that?) Oh Lord, look nigga (C'mon mama let me hit that) Get the fuck on out of my face talkin' all that Old silly ass bullshit. [Ali] Up next, Kujo!!!

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[Kujo] Niggas hate me cause I'm nice in the game And got a style priceless like ice in the chain Aiyyo so who am I? I'm the best to ever spit I got that, "Hot Shit" like I'm Nelly and the Tics I pop a hot block dodge the cops and the dics Cause they want me gone, been in the game too long Here's how you want it, you come with guns nigga We cock two, got work? I comp too Block one, we pop two For the love for my family, and my seed Makin' sure them records live on, from now until infinity I'm from the 34, live in 3D Southsiiiiiiide, hot boy like I'm Figi

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Spit the truth til I die, give a fuck you niggas sick of me No matter what the fuck you faggotts do You can't get rid of me. [Ali] Peace, to my cousin Trife, up next The one and only Mic Checker!!! [Mic Checker] St. Louis, what you know bout high-grade we wastin' it? What you know bout 76 pounds to break down in the basement? What you know bout chances enough Air Course Suitcases and pretty pictures out in Lambert Air Port? What you know bout losin' count cause there's so many stacks? How many niggas can say shit like this

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But there's truth in the tracks? What you know bout clicked up nigga? Out the country whilin' How many you niggas done had pussy from the Virgin Islands? What you know bout your broad beggin' to be my mama? Lunatics and Skunk dick player up in Trulany What you know bout mo' bail? We brolic like Brutis Come for them, everyday and my clique's all exclusive What you know bout Spanish Town? Amongst the gun clappers Buff they penis soup head still on my red snapper. [Ali] One love to PL-Spin Naw you know, up next Boogee Mann!!! [Boogee Mann]

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Well Mr. B-double-O-G what? M-A-double-N I smoke joke and grin, and fuck your best friend Only if she a ten, then I slide right in Boogee and DJ Spin, be thunder and lightenin' Damn that's frightenin, so tuck your vest in My lyrical Mack-10, spit flows that kill men It's the Midwest y'all, we aimin' at all y'all We the ball til we fall or it's nothin' at all So just warm up the water, cause we Blink like Trotter Half-baked half slaughter, comin' like Vince Carter How you want it head or cut? We in the back of the truck Tryin' to see if baby girl can make me bust this nut Cause I'm 24 inches above the gun creek Get these hoes deep, so you pack yo heat.

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[Ali] What up Spud? Up next representin' V.I.P. King Jacob and Suga Chi!!! [Suga Chi] Microphones I burn bitches to whom it may concern with this Gotta learn this is to all my foes Them baby mommas swervin' Neons and Geos Cause they nigros to peep my steelo In a ??? ready for war, suited and booted Undisputed dame, been the same, in the game Since my Tenants had fat laces, smack faces With Tipsy (Ouch) intoxicated feel it bitch You gettin' thrown out of clubs ever time you see me.

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[King Jacob] Uugh, everybody want to be street Guaranteed they bring the most heat And swear to God ain't nothin' sweet I agree, but I also feel I ain't got to prove shit To do it to them punk ass niggas from your click I fuck hoes that be so thick, when I roll you know this And them twenty inch chrome rims sit so sick Motorola shit for communication, this is to aid my flows Take over the whole nation. [Ali] Iceberg!!! [Iceberg]

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It's the nigga the player that keeps it duplicated Or faded in no type of way, hate it if you like But you can't stop us gettin' paid Unless you sabotage the stage, or drop us in a place we stand And then you have to worry bout your whole state We made it now the legacy's forever more Style be forever raw, heaven or hell I'll stay forever S-T-L Catch me down down baby, in a black Humvee Comin' to get my fuckin' corner back for Nelly, (E.I.!) My fuckin' record sales were barely, (Uh Ohhhhhhhhh!) Now there's nothin' they can tell me What I do is always too late, for the Louie See how you fools respond to these bomb frees Bigger Big Lee released all these beats

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And everytime we do what's fuckin' million ??? And come to answer their question of how come I-C-E-B-G Gon become part of this Alumni nigga [Ali] All the way from the Cle-Town we got my man E Hella (Louie Town) Foundation!!! [Foundation] You never met a four, better with metaphors Metal for whores, like Tiger's metal four Shit, that's what I met her for, strictly city Thick cliques mixed with Big Lee Can't disturb, stand clap hands dance and swerve For the spot where nobody else should fix a hand or word

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E-Perior bless, since we all wreck mic checks You guess me on, Midwest be songs, and testin' Jones F with the best be gone, no quest-ion School yard parties, fourty-four-four Seventy West and East, don't get it F in streets Style shows like sandals, pumps get handled Dismantled, St. Louis is Tony Soprano No two, heffers with blow poor, ghetto mo' gurr Blow bolo get fooled around the clock. [Ali] Up next, we got two live MC's My man Storm and his home' West Stone. [Storm]

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You can't fuck with Storm, six niggas in the truck with Storm You want to jack him, but you won't got no luck with Storm My dirty run with dirty niggas and he from St. Lou Plus he know Kung-Fu, and he got guns too That big dick dude, that flip kick fools like Tom Cruise You don't wanna battle me dude you gon' lose Hit you with one-two's, your lungs bruised My foot in the butter so many crews call me doo-doo shoes. [West Stone] You know Stone is known to break them bones Meet your chick and take her home Get one chick and make her moan And you wonder why these niggas hate the Stone Broke their backs, when I wrote the raps

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Nigga don't drink I'll smoke to that Niggas hopin' that, I'll take a bow Want to take my life? Better take it now I'm still alive let me break it down Turn this shit to the O.K. Corral Get to blastin', whippin' asses Forget that talk shit, I'm with the action Want to make it hot? I'ma bring the heat Ain't no nigga that can hang with me. [Ali] Up next we got Goobee Thug The rhyme spitter!!! [Goobee Thug]

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We gon' get two seats recline and lean harder X, smoke green, and buy the spring water Y'all niggas polish your jewels to bling harder I cock the fifth, y'all drop your shit Type of nigga rob you to cop the whip Catch me, on 23's with a boxter-twist See the rocks twinkle twinkle right in front of your eyes I shine brighter than the sun in the skies Got a gun on my waist, got one in your eye And I stays blowin' haze and that Chocolate Thai Y'all smoke swag weed that's brown with seeds in it I hustle from first to first through seasons And you gotta accept this, I ball like the Celtics A. Walker, shake you up And I have Ted Foster to make you up.

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[Ali] Up next from the Rawkus Crew My homeboy Fister!!! [Fister] I'm the man before time, move hands before time Like Don Bluth I made The Land Before Time Some MC's think they're nice, but not hardly That's what they "Say Say Say" like Paul McArtney And Michael Jackson, I cypher the action To anyone who assists like John Packson Who these kids think they is tryin' to act all wild They temporary like members of Destiny's Child I'm spottin' the top Feds, poppin' the hot lead All in his pothead, makin' him drop dead Call me Shanksoon, lyrically snatchin' your soul Your squad's useless, like the right arm on Bob Dole Behold, the manifold of a black Aristotle Roadkillin' MC's, with my hand on the throttle Smashin' em all, mashin' em all, bashin' em all Picked up my Friday check cashin' em all

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