Lyrics:
how you get them o's
Got to crawl before you walk that's just how the game goes
Now this one is for my trill niggas
On the block, moving that rock,
or fall I stand tall you're small in fact
Step aside, you might get fried
By the super technique that the rapper applied
As a matter of fact, the impact
And then you scrape and climb up to that level and there's still another level
There is endless more to be had
And we spend our lives chasing stuff
(Uh)
Calmest nigga out the group if I gotta shoot I would
Or we might pull up to yo hood and make you take that L for good
Only time I'm taking Ls is when we
slide
Yeah i'm balling high on life
On a private about to fly
Champagne out in the glass
Two bitches by my side
You know they about to ride
So many
it all by the book
But you should let yourself off the hook
to the grave, two by two
And we're next up, my aura just shines It made you stick your neck up
Don't cross the line, dot a dot on my forehead Do this fast, yeah,
to make tell the truth is it you who they fooling today
The news isn't true get subdued by a page that stay posting for likes and it's you who they play
is home
Either you rap sell drugs or work for Quinken Loans
The new Detroit not the Coleman Young era
Still air ya block if you movin in error
We built
the best
How you say that you a God but you got beat up by my cousin
Keep this shit a hunnid, RJ wanted smoke and you was running
Fuck that nigga Thomas
to the bank like they told me a joke
Get to the trap make it jump like a toad
Ye, how you feel ‘bout that?
I’m a winner you can see by the stats
Don’t ask
but that is really matter
I just wanna be in the group looking for cover
Don't tell me sit by yourself and breath common brother
I just wanna see
eyes
Only Jah you must praise
Strive not with a man without cause
If he have done no harm
Let by gone be by gone
Said I had a close one yesterday
Tom Brady is single. Ladies its true
Facts or fiction? You tell me. I'll ask you (Okay)
Yeah, Mr. President's dead, shot by Donald Trump in the face
Was
Why you look confused motherfucker? This is war
Yeah nigga, uh, yeah nigga
Yeah nigga, uh, yeah nigga, uh
Yeah nigga
Bust my gun all by myself
Why you look confused motherf***er? This is war
Yeah n****, uh, yeah n****
Yeah n****, uh, yeah n****, uh
Yeah n****
Bust my gun all by myself
, yeah
I'ma fucking no joke, yah
You should know that My Life Is Race
Burn our talk
And you don't know who I am (Yah)
Your memories is broke
I really
let it go
If you only ever lie thats all you'll ever know
It's alright sometimes to let go of hope
Keep it in mind this world is a joke
And no one
is on your lips, my bum is on your lips"
And if I'm lucky, you might just give it a little kiss
And that's the message that we deliver to little kids
should've been Brett Kavanaugh, but the exact opposite
Telling cops to suck a dick
And Clarence Thomas is a big ol' bitch and a creep
More important than
faster? Can?t you blast her out?
SMOCK
But the woman?s room on Level 4 is only three by three. We wouldn?t want to reduce her to atoms, that would be
and it's time to admit it
This is the end bitch, I'm livin' till finished
I get carried by fans into arenas and functions
You get carried by feats and some
jokes when your breaking your back
When you're so damned tired you're about to collapse
But the hole is cool and the water's right
And you'll be home by
if, someday you say, "Who the hell is that?"
Would Beats by Dre, pay 20K
For us to say that they are great
Recording costs, for this whole song
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