Lyrics:
————–ORBIT
Glenn: Ah, roger. Friendship 7. All system are go in the capsule.
Glenn: Ah, Roger this is Friendship 7. I’m controlling fly by wire present time.
to top charts
I don't know what happened, wanting to blow rap
You lose soul and passion for the flows and the tracks
Radio's lacking, controlled by
Something this round tells me that we can
Be a shame if no good Rose up
MVP Derrick, Open Lane but no dunk
Bad enough on it’s own, pull from the bad
Have
my back like some school teachers
And be checkin' for me in the streets
So they can listen to me real good
And go and make a ? that beat
Now
Booths cozy like a cubee
Might as well get comfy
2nd album 22
And you haven't heard the last from me
to me
No time wasted baby
I just wanna fuck with you tonight
1 2 3 Three in the morning
Liquor feel good when your horny
I need it
Sex with im craving
I
How's it going?
Good
You?
Fair
Yeah, tell me
Russian Tea Room
Hi
Mary
Say hello
I think I got a job
Where?
True
stupid to know about
Pop songs your new boyfriend's too stupid to know about
Sure he buys you records
If you like them by U2
But if you want the Pastels
the sound
This year I'll prolly go to the awards dappered down
Watch Iggy win a Grammy as I try to crack a smile
I'm just playin', but all good jokes
you and your girls buyin purses
Lookin like two Miss Universe's
Make a nigga want to curse "Shit!"
Who them two bitches, let me go spit a couple
to you by my style alone
Clean and pretty
Perfect fitted
Never seen this shit before
Get ready like
1, 2, 3, 4
Oh
It’s so good
Got me up on this feelin’
GRABS HER STUFF AND LEAVES.
SCENE TWO — MAIN HALLWAY
SCENE OPENS WITH SAM HOLDING A KID BY HIS COLLAR AND
PUSHING HIM AGAINST A LOCKER.
KID: LET ME GO
(let's go)
On the phone, cooking dope at the same damn time (remix)
Selling white, selling mid at the same damn time (woo, woo)
Fucking two bad bitches
(let's go)
On the phone, cooking dope at the same damn time (remix)
Selling white, selling mid at the same damn time (woo, woo)
Fucking two bad bitches
serious
Ha (it's the Roc) yeah, yo
Let's go
Post Positano, Hov' hanging with Bono
U2 can live like Salvatore Ferragamo
And you, too, can cool out
Quarter-million in a baby blue Goyard
Buy it cash then I go in the motor
Drive fast, ain't no pullin' me over
Play with bags, you can tell by the odor
No
it seems
Street dreams by any means just to capture the green
Know what I mean, but I know its all been a scheme
Set screens to block it out, like you
tell by my outfit
Niggas who scared of me, really want smoke
We bout to get rich, we active
I bet 2,30, we caught them bitchin
I bet who got me never
[Talking]
Verse:1 B.G.
I been in this game for awhile I'm a paid man now (huh bruh)
On my sixth solo album I'm a made man now (yep)
Six years strong
With cats rippin' over-seas tracks by Nicolay
This shit gon' blow, I'll tell you how the shit'll go
With Joe Scudda and Tiggalo the Rap Gigolo
Hm (hm)
Shh-shh-shh-shh da-da da-da
Ohh, shit! Haha da-da da-da?
Da-da da-da (yeah like that) da-da da-da
(This how it go) da-da da-da?
Da-da
Busting my brain and creating this album making a statement
Its understatement, I'm taking rap flow to plateau
These assholes you clap fo'
Just can't go
Trynna have fun we can get it all done
2 bad girls and the pleasures all mine
Lisa and Tina trynna have a good time
Yeah that's how we get the shit
Us two's only thing I care about I swear
Good times baby good times
Kill em with goodvibes
You I baby you I together all night
Oh I loved you I loved
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