Lyrics:
That's what they call me
I promise that you'll never be lonely
Yeah, yeah
It's Zayy
Long Live Bri
Have some fun for a little
Pop them drugs for my
make you my little boo
Like who? Man you now listen to me
Just listen to me on this beat
I'm gangster, I got my heat
But I made a song for the love in
a hot buttered pop-da-pop-da-pop, dibbie dibbie
Pop-da-pop-pop, you don't dare stop
Come alive, y'all, gimme whatcha got
I guess by now you can take
Born and raised in Kentucky dawg
We some dirty south boys
In love with Jesus and Ball
Born and raised in Kentucky Dawg
Where the sun shine bright
Maybe I'm psycho
Maybe I'm a little out of touch
Maybe I'm delusional or a shot
Glass away from insane maybe I'm foolish
Maybe I'm disconnected from
I'm basic, cause when get at ya
I hit ya so hard
Your click feel like you been slapped by the
Next full moon
I do my little body bag ritual
Hop out that
frontin', tossin' they little watches
Cris? I pops it. Fuckin' a nigga topless
Cats? I fouls on. Hoes? I styles on, nigga
Wear why'all out then air
I'm the plug, let's pop a couple seals
Sippin on that dirty till I'm walkin wit a tilt
Fuck niggas tryna slay me
Bitches can't wait to betray me
Shit
to find
You know the line, "Don't judge the book by its cover"
Read every page cause the nigga's my brother
But it shoulda stated, that the book's on one's
what's crazy? I didn't even
Write the most intense part of
The song, I didn't write i just
Picked up a little demo mic, and I just sat
They were playing
homies bout to pop up
Got it on em like a potluck
Need a telescope to spot us, by the star dust
Cause I done grew some wings
I came out just to party, I’m
first song I drop could touch your whole catalog
I can’t trust that little nigga he tattletale
I’m blowing gas out the whip nigga how it smell
Too gas up
where i sleep, now give me my key
[Verse 8: N.O.R.E.]
New York get the blood money, dirty cash still sweet
We will blackwall street by the swapmeet with
as hell, yeah, she feisty, she will fight you
Like they cut my ears off, now you can't tell me shit
Last song, I hit a home run, now I'm pitching like a fit
with old timers
My name's a reminder of a
Pop song people forgot
And I can't keep a girl, no
Because as soon as the sun comes up
I cut 'em all loose
Non-stoppin', I'ma hit 'em till the block explode
Hip hop, R&B, Pop-tart, what you want?
I even got a little rock 'n' roll
The most creative, original, got 'em
finna go to jail
I just ran over a pedestrian
Robbed my little cousin 'cause I
Found out he bisexual
And I sold a twelve year
Old kid a weed edible
I just
shitting out pop stars like a gum ball machine. Simon Cowell’s got his own little factory line, young boys in tight clothes with big dreamy eyes. A.D.D is
Rubber baby buggy bumpers, bumpin' the track
Sally sells her seashells by the seashore, she don't slack
A little bit of the better butter into
a stereotype
Driven by some people up in Ariel Heights
Here's a scenario
Young Cole pockets is fat like little Terrio
Dreamville, give us a year we'll be
him of GZA back then I was a cold
Little nigga painting pictures
Avalon did that, six pack
Raised by them killers that’ll never
Bring them kids back
scared of who? It ain't no competition (what?)
Not to mention, got extensions, holdin' Scottie Pippens
Try to rob, I'll pop your mental (Dirty Bay)
gone fly
Put it on boss, so I won't lie
I used to be young but I'm grown now
Hit a few licks, so we known now
Kicked a little south, so it's on now
Do
it's mine
Thank you to my pops, yeah, just for raising me right
I could've been outside selling dope by the light
With nobody to care and everybody
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