Flow Machines (feat. Nique Rose)

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Jeff Porter & David Ryan

3:50

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108 World, flow machines, flow machines
D Ryy, Nique, let's go

Ladies and gentlemen, can I have your sole attention
This the only shit that takes away from my depression
The road to hell is paved with good intentions
The road to fame keep blowing up my mentions
The growth is fucking obvious
I used to sing to in shower, now I perform with audience
I sing my heart out, I black out lose consciousness
I'm fond of this, partly due to the dominance
Now I'm in way too deep, like I'm swimming in the blue sea
I'm in the game, you out the league like you're drew brees
It was bound to happen like a new crease
My life is at ease, my life is a beach
I'm a flow machine, plug me in and I rip beats
She is not my queen, she belonging to the streets
I post a fit it's clean, so my followers increased
I'm running out of breath, can you help me out Nique

Flow machines, yeah, flow machines
What, flow machines, Uh huh, flow machines

Yeah, yeah

F*ck a skinny bitch, I think I need a chubby chick
Cause thick women love to spit, feel better when they sucking ohhh
On some other shit, my new chick a Republican
What if i was a Democrat, baby would you still love me then
I been juggling, baby i been juggin it
Still pushing it, still killing shit
These other suckas suffering
You got touched once, don't mean you can't get touched again
Make them say their prayers right before they leave their fucking crib
Too tired of the games now, plus two I connect four
The rest know, f*ck a bitch, hit her with the death stroke
The best stroke's 'bout four minutes, but I straight finesse those
Obsessed hoes cause, every time i leave I upset hoes
They froze i refresh those, no old date, check codes
I'm ill with the cheat codes, if we was playing chess doe
Take cheese like parmesan, some kill for the pesto
No pasta sauce, see the vision I drew like I'm Bledsoe
Like Bledsoe, momma screaming you a mess though
When get home better clean up your mess bro
Never wore a uniform, always breaking dress codes
They call I collect, came from public school but should've went prep though
Ugly in the suburbs, pretty in the projects
Bars so retarded, elect me for bar prez
Jealousy, felonies and hella fiends
Shooters popping more collars than celery
For feta greens, just let it be
Searching for a world peace, plenty ways to Artest
Had to hit my dog Jeff, know David dropping bombs next
Jimmy hit my phone back, yo Nique where the hoes at
These hoes lack, we finna get rich I flip the whole pack
Bro you flipped whole pack, hell yeah you snow that
These hoes come and go like new rappers with no swag
In they songs when it come to lyrics, they give no add, nor content
Period when I spit shit notepads

Flow machines, cold as fucking four degrees
Dopest that you hope to see when I'm performing locally
Hopefully, in like two years, you'll see me globally
Have you out there rapping all our lyrics when we overseas
I'll make it so big, Jeff Ross he gon' be roasting me
Me and David cooking up told Nique we had an opening
He sent it right back, straight crack, that potent poetry
Going off the leash it's kinda hard to get a hold of me
Do this in my sleep, I swear to God it's like a joke to me
Hit the easy jumper then I soak it when I go for three
Socially, I'm more extroverted, when I'm smokin' weed
You yield when you approaching me, in Mass we call em rotarys
Y'all being super extra like you tackin' on the broker fee
How you think you building an empire with no regime
Everytime I pen a verse, I feel a dose of dopamine
Exactly what you call pursuing all your fucking hopes and dreams

Flow machines, uhh, flow machines, that's right
Fucking flow machines, me and David, and fucking Nique, yeah, we some flow machines, yeah

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