[Verse 1] R.I.P. to baby Quincy and Old Red Remember Scottie Pippen assistin' to Jordan's bald head When all said and it's done and we're all dead The world keeps spinnin' on a Harlem Globetrotter's finger I'm an old soul and an old soul singer Got a hot flow with an ice cold zinger It's got a nice ring to it, player Christina Aguilera, come and sing to a player
[Verse 2] See me with my bottle drinkin' genie in a bottle Cheesin' cause I'm schemin' Like I cheated on the lotto, I'm Skippin' class, my homies keep rippin' ass Zippin' past graph riders who jack my last lighter Told the rider, "ride cool" Don't blow up like dynamite, dude When you light the right fuse Find the right moves and multiply 'em by two Give you guys some fire to ride to
[Verse 3] Click-clack blow, sit back down, you diggy-diggy? Hit that killer and get that crown You're fucking with the utmost ignorant Sugar coated with cinnamon Gentleman to the women, boy you know who it is Huckleberry juice I like to pour my vodka on (uh) Car full of killer and villains like Comic-Con I'm tryna make it rain like I was God and watered lawn And every time I'm rappin' I'm setting off car alarms I ain't got an army full of bodybuildin' mountain men (ha) And I expect you all to fucking scurry when I count to ten
[Verse 4] I'm glad we got this chance to slow it down again (uh huh) I want my fans to hear my raps and know they found a friend And us and them could take on you and any amount of men Just know that the grass is never purpler Around the fence (whatever that means) Where's my gas money? And where's that rent check? (uh huh) Who are these amateur partiers? Where my friends at? (yeah) Ryan Campbell rockin' boat shoe sandals (of course) Nacho's probably wackin' off to Scandal again (of course) Raz Simone's up out of town and probably grindin' and movin' Gifted Gab is somewhere probably denying she's Jewish Shoutout Sky Bloaw, he probably brought his bong along Making me take dabs and bump his electronic songs (alright dude) See, we've always been underdogs at the parties Skinny kids in our Buick's against these jocks in Ferrari's And I don't dress cool Sorry rappers, I'm straight (I'm sorry) Same jeans everyday, somehow I'm still getting laid
[Verse 5] You like TV and girls, I like whiskey and women And I get plenty of it, sue me, buddy Send me to prison, okay Yeah, I like rap, rappy-rap-rap Tell somebody Sammy's backy-back-back My girl says I'm an insomniac What's wrong with that? I'm at the laundry-mat jottin' raps On other people's socks and pants The man with the same clothes as last night Woke up on the sofa in a halfpipe Broker than your glass pipe
[Verse 6] I been wit' you a long time, baby I'm in Seattle busy making the song cry, baby You try-you try-you try to run but you can't stop the gun I'm from a town where the clouds block the sun Bounce, bounce, come on, bounce Ladies come on out We ain't Facebook offic', but supposed to be true And my homie know Sammy the biggest hoe in the school And I don't want to be another [?] But you the one that got with everybody 'fore you knew me Now you wanna act all asshole, back door creepin' at the last call, tryna get to me, goddamn You're mad, want a pair of gloves and a chinstrap? This that, eye roll, I don't really need that shit Where my weed at, where my fucking weed at? Shit Like who, what, you ask why? The glass I had this morning and last night I don't gotta be something you do to pass time When I get the money, honey soon I'ma have My top back and my hair blowin' Button, unbutton, chest hair is showing Keep going, I don't look back at the city Got the seat leaned back, me and Jackie D I'ma kick you out every show I'm doing If you're not talking money, shorty don't lie to me I don't got time for all the jokes y'all doing I'ma make it rain, hailstorm snow onto you, woah!
[Outro] Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha [?]Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
