Above The Rim (feat. Marcus Jarvis)

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Pasto Chris

3:09

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I get above the rim, I feel like Kyle Watson when the buzzer end
But I'm like Motow with that stick, I blick shit down in public, yeah
When I'm inside, I get to diggin' in until I'm cumin' in
I pop my shit cause I don't really care bout what the budget is
Been fuckin' on the baddest, I don't even waste my time with bitches
Free my cousin out them trenches, he got caught with all them switches
Pour a 4 up, I been sippin'
Pop a perc, shit got me lifted
Blow a bag, they said I'm trippin',
Ain't no stress, my paper different
You say you a gangster, but we know you really on nothin'
Claim you gettin' paper, flexin' some bread you ain't touchin
Bye-bye to you haters, fah-fah, see you later
Block hot you in danger, shots meet your creator
Green bean on the laser, we been goin' major
Slimeworld that's the label, surrounded by ghetto angels
Catch an opp, that's case closed, we don't do no statements
We don't miss straight facials, turn you to a patient
Bitches all love MJ, swear I sound like Trey Songz
Glock kick back like Pele, dare a nigga to say some
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Dare a nigga to say some
Can't get got
With my feens, I'm gettin' mixy in that pot
Takin' flights, I'm state to state
Been takin' risks, this shit get hot
Passin' testers to my junkies, gotta watch in case they drop
Sippin' akorn by the pint, go take a sip when that shit drop
I be ridin' in my city, keep it on me, ain't no prop
In that kitchen, get excited every time that shit lock
I'm on that block, feel like Jetta, ain't no way I drop that rock
Niggas know who came to town and got it in and made shit pop, yeah
20, 40, 50, ain't enough, I need a hundred bands
Drop the window on his ass, hop out, he do the runnin', man
Talkin' on the net, but when they see me actin' like a fan
How you know that shit ain't gon' work out if you don't take that chance
Beat the stove, I beat that pan, off that perc, I never land
Hit that trap, I need them bands, Jeans too tight, they can't fit the pants
Down bad on your ass, ain't got no motion, tryna make demands
Hustle is what builds you, it ain't money that's gon' make the man
You say you a gangster, but we know you really on nothin'
Claim you gettin' paper, flexin' some bread you ain't touchin
Bye-bye to you haters, fah-fah, see you later
Block hot you in danger, shots meet your creator
Green bean on the laser, we been goin' major
Slimeworld that's the label, surrounded by ghetto angels
Catch an opp, that's case closed, we don't do no statements
We don't miss straight facials, turn you to a patient
Bitches all love MJ, swear I sound like Trey Songz
Glock kick back like Pele, dare a nigga to say some
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Dare a nigga to say some

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