Lyrics:
I'm in a fantasy factory Rob&Big got no rivalries
I'm on my grind, I be ollie'n You talked about it, I ain't hear a thing
I'm in a fantasy factory
Fried fish at the docks at Istanbul Sirkeci
A glass of red at Gare de L'est
Munich, Vienna, Budapest
The orient express
A pelmeni plate in Volgograd
Pardon the swag, Rolex the wrist
Throw an assist, foreign the whip
Chasing a bag, knowing the flip
Doing my dance, hand on my grip
Loving my class,
it
Po' it then sip
Hold get a grip
Smoke but don’t trip
Got no time to sleep so I vamp
I score like a champ Phillip Lahm
All this murky water like
motherfucker don’t get it twisted
Walk in the bar with my Münich bag, they ain’t worried about what’s up in it
Yeah, niggas know that I’m kind of sweet, but
If my old truck was a horse
I'd have to shoot it
Lord the day my ship came in
I was waiting for a train
Everytime I get a grip, I always lose
Balenci' tracks, what I'm buyin' my Munich thing (ah-ha)
And I might just buy her a bag depending what mood I'm in (okay)
Pull her hair out, hit it from
do"
[Violent J]
Factory smoke and choke in pain
'cause Del Ray funk is in my brain
So I break the law but I'm not to blame
You only know my place, you
The factory belches filth into the sky
He walks unhindered through the picket lines today,
He doesn't think to wonder why
The secretaries pout and preen
The factory belches filth into the sky
He walks unhindered through the picket lines today,
He doesn't think to wonder why
The secretaries pout and preen
that ass soon
See I cast 'em and I passed 'em
Get a tight grip and I grasp 'em
I flash 'em and outlast 'em
And if it ain't good then I trash 'em
do"
[Violent J]
Factory smoke and choke in pain
'cause Del Ray funk is in my brain
So I break the law but I'm not to blame
You only know my place, you
lake
Another industrial ugly morning
The factory belches filth into the sky
He walks unhindered through the picket lines today
He doesn't think
that ass soon
See I cast 'em and I passed 'em
Get a tight grip and I grasp 'em
I flash 'em and outlast 'em
And if it ain't good then I trash 'em
that he can take
Many miles away something crawls from the slime
At the bottom of a dark Scottish lake
Another industrial ugly morning
The factory
Yo, aye look 5th wheel straight hangin'
Grip the grain, I'm swangin'
It's Texas all on my roots boy
Ain't no point in me changing
On 45, trunk
she get, contact Diddy back
Cah energy, inna mi back weh it stack
Pure Snagga Roots, have the factory fi that
Gyal ah try bruk the cocky, like
If my old truck was a horse I'd have to shoot it
Lord, the day my ship came in I was waiting for a train
Every time I get a grip I always lose it
made in a factory
And all these niggas snakes, while they wait
I just laugh see
Cuz while they get no money, I'm just getting to my bag
Now I'm shitting
Conveying aspirations, pistons with pious pulp
The flesh factory's what sustains my vice-like grip on the throne
Gastrointestinal gaskets, replicated
bankrolls
Figure of speech making figures while I speak
The beat intertwined with my voice so unique
Steady creep, grip the wheel, soft leather you can feel
factory (my factory)
Don't speak bout me then that shit blasphemy (oh then that shit blasphemy)
Yeah, I got my gat on me it blasts for 3 (gat on me)
I talk
paint, but still keep my factory paint job (yup, yup, yup)
I'm a mack and I play hard
Choose a bitch, scoop a bitch, then back the play yard
Like 'Hey ya,
of the classroom
How ever you want it
Lover lover gonna tap that ass soon
See I cast 'em and I pass 'em
Get a tight grip and I grasp 'em
I flash 'em and out last
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