Lyrics:
for the white spit
Baby doing stunts with her wrist it was sorta spy kids
Hi to a talking fly pro
Sip from a muddy styro
Not safe for work posts with
religion created web in Charlotte pig in
Open up a mars and dig in trapped mental bars keep digging
The sugar won't kill you Lord willing
EB whites, farm
get high,
Get wasted!
Puff, sip, puff, sip, puff, sip,
Get wasted!
(Yeah, I ate all the shrooms and I drank a fifth of Jack Daniels
I can't
For that white powder
A deuce deuce will leave little holes
In your top like salt shaker
Then I'll finish it off with a big cap
On your head like a park
Jon close by too
Right about now
I need everybody to get they motherfuckin' hands up
(Everybody get your hands up)
And wherever the fuck you from
celebrity is you
I see Muhammed Ali
Clanking goes my trolley (18)
Starred in "Hello Dolly"
When it ran out of blue and Salvatore Dali
He did a little sketch
Self made
Gotta handle your own
I'mma handle mine
They tried and tell me I don't fit up in this motha fucka
'Cause Rozay been talkin' white he
out, I'm the C-A-S-A-N, the O-V-A
And the rest is F-L-Y
You see I go by the code of the doctor of the mix
And these reasons I'll tell you why
You
He's even more over than the mayor Ed Koch
Washing windows on the Bowery at a quarter to four
'Cause he ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more
nothing you wanna say something than pull up and scrap with your crew
If not than I'll rip it simplistical shit grip my dick turn the color to blue
I've
We've been indoctrinated and convinced by the white racist standard of beauty
The overwhelming popularity of seeing, better off being, and looking
Does it make blue things white, or make white things blue?
(His blue things are white, and his white things are blue)
My Fastback has Wide-Track
couldn't do an album, now I got like 8 tracks
White boy rappin' shoulda signed to Nickleback
Jack make me delete posts on social why would you do that
I'm
'bout
Up in NY blowin' the pack down
Drink in my system I'm finna act out
Crae hit my jack, told me it's time to go ball
I feel like Jerry Stackhouse
a mothafuckin’ dealer
I guess I gotta smoke 7/Eleven to stay high
I’ma fly in the blue sky, goodbye
No time for fake bitches so prolly I’ll just pass by
You like
vapor it
I could give you game, nigga do the same
Red and blue the same
If the whites is the only niggas makin' it
I'm floatin' through the smoke
My eyes
a fish in the tank, bitch, don't knock on the glass
I pour up Tito's and Jack and I fill up the flask
Runnin' this shit like a campaign in '07
I'm fly like
words, "Send for the law," uh
Two words, Freeway, slightly retarded
Fuck around, throw a clip in your artist, leave with his broad
Red, white blue
the sink
Like when we retire gone cop that lil crib by the beach
Name that bitch bed by the sea
Before they knew, me and blues was in sync
They ain't never
Picked up pints and peas up out the farm, I feel like Peter Piper
I was thinkin' bigger, y'all can use it, we gon' be suppliers
Ron stay with a script
Wake up from sleep just a regular day
Put on my cape and I just fly away
I can not stop till I get me a rafe
I can not stop till they blue in
"Hello?"
"What you mean?"
"Hol' up, hol' up what you mean I ain't fly?"
"What you mean I ain't got no drip?"
"Goddamn it, aight, look"
Lemme
I couldn't give myself one reason why
A girl like her would be stopping by
A blue collard town on a Friday night
Yeah I didn't know
Till she closed
I guess them pretty blue skies up in Gwinnett County got a disguise
I guess your eyes see us on that map and make you think we ain't a trap
But I'm
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