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Miguel Cotto II (Chopped and Screwed) Video (MV)






Catch the Fade - Miguel Cotto II (Chopped and Screwed) Lyrics




Catch the fade aint nothing to f*ck with
Torn MC flesh through my bicuspids
Chipotle sell wraps and so do the fade
Over the beat, Pass words like a sign in page
Power lines over your head but the birds on it
These niggaz making songs with no words on it
Air traffic control, I talk fly all day
I had to check my rhyme book into T-S-A
Dickriding is the worst form of transportation
They tell me My drive can drive past the hating
Corn balls they should serve you at a movie theatre
She talk bad behind your back, you should hear her
She say You a bitch, you a bundle of sticks
Plus I'mma leave yo ass when the fade get rich
Shoutout to Baltimore and them niggaz that have it hard
Knowing we should be signed like back of a credit card

They never keep it a dime, but always add their nonsense
I'll demolition derby their existence, crushing contents
With a blade tucked, face cut
One sway of the Wesson at the forehead, causes a line to shape up
Never afraid, always engaged, in the eyes of the shade
Disguised as a plague, rot in minds, lies of the fake
Crazy locations, they wild tourists
Never bit that hand that fed me, but I chomp on palms that left me malnourished
Say my name is synonymous to arrogance
And my confidence causes grisly scenes, overbearing 'em
They dont peep the work, but stay judging, put away the gavel
Get mollywhopped, all facts from caps of Snapple
A flip of the coin sharpens inevitable fate
And all Ceasars get placed in a vegetable state
No dressing, all naked, solely stripped of the pride
And you'll barely see it coming, you'll be legally blind
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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Catch the fade aint nothing to f*ck with
Torn MC flesh through my bicuspids
Chipotle sell wraps and so do the fade
Over the beat, Pass words like a sign in page
Power lines over your head but the birds on it
These niggaz making songs with no words on it
Air traffic control, I talk fly all day
I had to check my rhyme book into T-S-A
Dickriding is the worst form of transportation
They tell me My drive can drive past the hating
Corn balls they should serve you at a movie theatre
She talk bad behind your back, you should hear her
She say You a bitch, you a bundle of sticks
Plus I'mma leave yo ass when the fade get rich
Shoutout to Baltimore and them niggaz that have it hard
Knowing we should be signed like back of a credit card

They never keep it a dime, but always add their nonsense
I'll demolition derby their existence, crushing contents
With a blade tucked, face cut
One sway of the Wesson at the forehead, causes a line to shape up
Never afraid, always engaged, in the eyes of the shade
Disguised as a plague, rot in minds, lies of the fake
Crazy locations, they wild tourists
Never bit that hand that fed me, but I chomp on palms that left me malnourished
Say my name is synonymous to arrogance
And my confidence causes grisly scenes, overbearing 'em
They dont peep the work, but stay judging, put away the gavel
Get mollywhopped, all facts from caps of Snapple
A flip of the coin sharpens inevitable fate
And all Ceasars get placed in a vegetable state
No dressing, all naked, solely stripped of the pride
And you'll barely see it coming, you'll be legally blind
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Ronald James, Taron Holder
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid


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