Lyrics:
First and the third in row (whoa)
Junkies, they beatin down the door (woo)
Thumb through that check when I count up that check
Like I'm playing three
is going to be Hillary Clinton!
You might not like it, but they gotta
Hear it i ain’t here to massage
You with a fake truth, telling you that
Hillary
like I flicked a switch and now I'm feeling good (Bounce)
No way to stop it, now you wish that you could (Bounce)
When the weekend comes I know I'll
Them niggas stay hating i could never be like you
Say he got hands I could fight too
That boy say he a shooter
Young man we got pipes too
Pray that we
grandfather, aunt, and half-brother lived next door, they would
Not watch her for any length of time
I was renting out rooms of my three-bedroom, two-bath mobile
Inspiration, while certainly a state that can be practiced and multiplied, is by definition
Not a constant resource
Exterior influences are probably
Cookin' up yae in the pure form of a rock
This is how we clock, stroll up on my block
Three in the morning po-po at my door
I'm wonderin' if
the lights off with you
That's all my vision
Hook up ps3, Dvd's, Final Fantasies
I'm in your fantasy, sing like 'Riah back in 93
"Baby you gon be all on me,
like yours that
Left no space for a breather
Then Skepta comes around
With a flow that breaks down
More times than a P-reg Vauxhall Tigra
To book Skepta
may be backed by the Army of Artifacts
By the time that I’ve enacted a pact
I’ll have made some history
I may be sued for breach of contract
But
Raise a toast
Came this far
I could just cool on the rocks like a brandy
All of this shade
Never was a glass house guy
But I keep stones by cause
top 10 that’s where I be
ADHD add me onto your tv
12 times 3 I do 36 per week
4 plus 4 got 8 in my family tree
5 add to 5 top 10 that’s where I be
I
get the lo , then we spinning like some DVD's
This shit easy, ebk like one, two, three
He ain't even get the chance to sing his son his abc's
We get
open doors that's the reason niggas locked out
Trap spot look like road blocks bring the blocks out
All my rich friends tryna shop bring the clocks out
I-i-i be kickin' shit like Solange in the elevator
The goal when you try to kick that dope
Stuck on the respirator
Got symptoms of withdrawal from
what I'm sayin
[VERSE 4]
I may not got no flow
But I ain't pimped by no negro
Backed by some
Cracka wit
His ass by the door
Therefore
I can never be
reply
Never think that I don't wanna be
Right by your side
And if you ever come around
I guess we'll sit down
And play video games
Cause when I press
motherfucker
That nigga me
And he grew up on poverty
Grew up on robbery
Grew up on ebt
He grew up on dvd's
Grew up had to wash the ones down
Just to keep em
That’s why they made a YouTube channel out of a sudden
That’s why they subscribe but won’t turn on the bell
That’s why they like the video but won’t click
Four-fives and fo-fos’
Bring your clown ass round here
And bring your best folk
That’ll be the easiest way
To get your ass smoked
By the block, hitters from
for his live like a coward
Why you running? Why you running?
Dip him down
Trip him, stick, stick, stick and bounce
Where's his phone? Whip it out
That
That's right, on the seventh
That's right, on the seventh
Seven, seven, seven
The following program has been brought
To you by Rhymesayers Entertainment
that's what she is,
And when he finally saunters back at three or four,
Don't let him in, put the chain on the door."
But of course I'd let him in,
that's what she is,
And when he finally saunters back at three or four,
Don't let him in, put the chain on the door."
But of course I'd let him in,
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