No. 8 lyrics by Statik Selektah - original song full text. Official No. 8 lyrics, 2024 version | LyricsMode.com
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Statik Selektah – No. 8 lyrics
And now ladies and gentlemen, a legend in his own time
The one and only Statik Selektah (Statik Selektah)

Yeah, ha ha, you know what the fuck it is?
Y'all niggers pussyin' man, hah, I see it
No wonder you walkin' around fuckin' mad all day nigga, you broke
Get a bag

Ayo, Statik Selektah
I got these niggas strappin' they vests up
Bitch niggas get to talkin', then I'm grabbin' the head clip
My OG said, "Don't let these rap niggas stress ya" uh
Especially a nigga you had under pressure
The Mac on the dresser (uh huh), it had a compressor
So you don't hear shit when it clappin', it wet ya
Out we lurkin' all day, and if I happen to catch ya, two things, black bag or a stretcher
I'm back and I'm fresher, never been to college, no
Never had a professor, but I just got a package from Hector, whoa
I'm straight nigga, break it down a set of weight nigga
But I'd rather be in the studio going apes nigga, uh
You just a rapper, stay in your place nigga (stay in your place)
Before I had the goons blickin' at your wraith nigga, yeah (brr brr)
Stay in your lane and be safe, nigga
Or get hit with the 30 in the face, nigga

Ayo, no soul bitch sold my shit
Your pockets got holes, I guess you're cheese, all Swiss
Let me squeeze tech got it runnin' like boat, nigga (brr)
White stripes on the fatigue coat
Fear, it got high tops, my rhymes's got it clean by the crates violatin', your time stop
Boom, I never idolize no nigga
Never been shooka, no nigga
Took over the phones in the buildin'
18th Street stabbed a nigga a million times
I seen it with my own eyes
Slipped on some blood that nigga layin' up dyin'
He lost the bet on the Giants
All you seen was chunks of that nigga flyin'
No C.O,'s, yo somebody need to mop the shit up

Ayo, it's a stick up
I'm in the castle blasted
Throw you in a bath of acid
Every word I spat is classic
Ratchet in the lavish fashion
I turn a shooter to a movin' target
Trying to cop a Louis carpet
When I do this shoppin' for this new apartment
The leather MCM bag, it got dabs in it
Molly, Percocet, the piff and acid tabs in it
I'm just a vandal, with a hammer, with a broken handle
Rappers is broke, I'm goin' home to a Naomi Campbell
Virgin Mary in my bed with a holy candle
Holy water in my bathtub and gold Roman sandals
I rock a robe and I'll be rockin' all across the globe
But rewind, I had a stockin' on, ready to rob your gold
I'm quick to smash a cutie
Even if she bad and bougie
Monogram Gucci, Jacuzzi
Now that's a future movie
I'm Benny Blanco with a weapon runnin' by the train
Silencer on the smoker, put gun powder in your veins
Hopped a lot of planes
Rocked a lot of chains
Clocked a lot of fame
And you lil' pussy boys not the same
Hundred bottles in a week, celebratin' life
Gave the door man a hundred dollars just to shake the ice
Pussy, I'll take your life from you with the rusty eight
Earthquake your soul when I'm bustin' with this Russian K
Sellin' eight balls, your boy made a ton of cake
Now we puffin' eighths, gettin' blunted to this number eight
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Lyrics taken from /lyrics/s/statik_selektah/no_8.html

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Songwriters: Alvin Worthy, Daniel Carrillo, Demond Price, Nutril Rhaburn, Patrick Baril, Watt Brady
No. 8 lyrics © Reservoir Media Management, Inc., Royalty Network

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