Wait a minute Hold up, brake pads Smoking on that loud And all that loud is loud enough to break glass Smoke at registration Probably sober at 8th class Middle finger to my opposition and your hating ass
I say Fuck what's in your pockets That shit don't define me I am far from human, stupid Google can't describe me I'm probably the realest here But y'all rap niggas ain't hearing that But if you drop this here - you might fuck around and get an ear tan hoe Where you heard that? No nobody said it I'm the type of nigga get drove by the chemist So angelic but the soul kinda hellish So dope with the freestyle - low I can sell it And my hand on the mic like feel Jackson Beat it up nah Phil like Blacksun Fuck high school, I mean it fuck high school With a gold chain on screaming, "No Flex Zone" I met a girl named Sam (girl named Sam) And I fell inlove with a girl named Sam Yeah I had to rub it in like bird mans hands One hunnid, high life, stay puffing, dry ice And it don't love it, they can die twice I've seen the afterlife I took a peak shit still don't change Y'all still got a penis appetite Bitch nigga, you ain't acting right You ain't rapping right? And peer pressure almost had a young nigga straight blasting pipes You gotta know which hand can't take the strife To make a sacrifice My nigga you can't practice life I'm Price City Tom even said it My whole life rests in the palms of the fetish Grab it it out the hat, magic shit Dab it out the ass for this rapping shit And then write a rhyme instead of studying for my exam shit Dumb nigga, dumb niggaTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
