Ras Kass: Air 'em out

Jea! Re-Up! A J-Classic classic. Razzy... rest in peace JustoI'm about to air these niggaz out one time[Verse 1:]Yo yo, ain't no nigga like the one right hereSpit flames, leave bloodstains on one night gearG-Star jeans, gun right nearNow homey X just fucked us his bitch like "Yeah!"Dawg I'ma spit the hottest shitFuck a dentist, eat a fire department and prop collegesRas Kass, King of the West, acknowledge thisAnd get a piece of the rock like meteorogologistsWhat Dame Dash and hapha is645 Coupe the same color Chewbacca isAnd you's a nigga everybody hates like Jar Jar BinksThat clown at the bar buying hot bitches drinksWhat you passin' on to me?What you know about Chinchilla minks? Ten killers deepSkittle flavored diamonds, first it's blue, then it's pinkCandy painting was off, dog we floodin' the streets[Hook 1:]IWILLNOTLOSEI (RE-UP about that fetti)WILL (Load up your glocks, get ready)NOTLOSE (haha... jea jea jea!)[Hook 2:]Hood niggaz if your arms up, bear it outNiggaz 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, nigga never doubts?No problem, it's nothing, I'ma air 'em outEast, West, up North to the Dirty South (air 'em out)I'ma (air 'em out), I'ma (air 'em out)Yo[Verse 2:]I keep shit off the chainLike broken clasp, medallions fallin' offAnd yall niggaz hopin' Ras go play on the freewayBut I'm that agent in the Matrix: ReloadedJumpin' out movin' cars, smashin' your hoods for the keys, manAnd not the ones that open doorsPor fa vor, I'm talkin' ki, mayneSilencer on the SPK, fuck BDS them fuckin' at VVVJs(???)R&B singers, new found factGot a 9 inch dick, tell your bitch to SoundScan that!And my Down South cats be like "What it do?"Cause my little cousin's bein' Memphis classic blueAnd niggaz still ga-not ga-knowin' as Gary ga-Knew(???)Plus I'm more Chris Real so long with Big Punished brewDownstairs in Jimmy's Cafe, album releasedYoung nigga in the belly, but now I'm a beastAnd it's like Sin City, every town holdin' heatSo I'm like the yellow nigga, kid it's foul when I speakAnd my baby moms said I need to cut down on my cheatin'Started fuckin' midgets, kept creepin'You ain't gotta tell me, I know you feelin' this shitI hear what I'm sayin' you know I'm killin' this shit, nigga[Hook 2][Verse 3:]Sometimes it all seems fucked up thoughRest in peace, cause what's mixtapes without Justo?Sip the' Grey Goose, thinkin' about that ride on the Gray GooseAnkles chained, headin' to BeirutCrucified next to some nigga named JesusDied ressurected, bustin' blue, still trey-deucedSo yall niggaz better respectognize shits realWhen my mixtape's hotter than every album this year[Hook 1 + Hook 2]