Lyrics:
Light the gas on fire
Baby I'm on fire
Get your hands up higher
If you wanna get higher
If the music's dope
Then I'm the supplier
I'm the supplier
to check a skeng supplier
Give me a skeng that can start a fire
I want a skeng that's long
Like my Nokia charger wire
These MCs, they tried to disrespect my
the
Streets I lost my dad to
As a kid, Meek became acquainted with
Another of his dad's brothers
A pioneering local DJ known as Grandmaster
Nell if you were
bad right now, that's what happened
Assassins on a dirt bike This'll be your last night
Yes! I was ninja in my last life
Fuck your bitch on your nine
Tonight we visit the Chicago area
Where federal state and local authorities
Are banding together to fight the explosion of the drugs
The problem had
on you
I hit them roads and I did that shit for me
I don't know what they told ya
But we be the local vibe suppliers
Who you be, it don't matter you can't
Hey pakka middle classu-da
Status ellaam dhoosuda
Pesipaaru adutha nimisham
Aayiruva Dhosthuda
Kalakkalu MR. Local-lu
Hey Kalakkalu Mr. Local
on the throne like a drunken boss
Sittin' on the wave still, supplier's an albatross
I need space like astronauts
Astronomically high, watchin' the stars crash
black Starter cap wit the hologram tags
White Mag rims, red rubber tires
Chain, frame, pegs, grips, shit to my supplier
Dopeman attire, gimme 'bout
at your feet
and a laser beam alarm but someone must have swiped it
My bike is gone
Just picked it up from the local bike shop
After 3 long years of saving
awaiting my return
Ressurected like Makaveli, pray my soul burns
Sole supplier for cocaine in southern states
sending sack city to city, be back in a couple
at your feet
And a laser beam alarm but someone must have swiped it
My bike is gone
Just picked it up from the local bike shop
After 3 long years of saving
you wanna beat me, how? (how?)
Oh, you the number one draft in the league now?
Ride down your block, doors twelve o'clock
Lambo', the drop, bike
And the only thing we wanted was to be free
And the only girl you had
Eyes for played downtown at the local bar
That was me she was me
Hey blue baby get that
roscoe
Finna dash like roscoe
Fuck gastapo
They can't catch me when i drive slow
Little pigs on a bike when i drive slow
Little pigs on a bike when i
speak
Slide op die bike met m'n local crashers
Wat weet jij over raisen heat
Patrouilleer je block no escape net raven
Geen Tom & Jerry ik chase en veeg
love about it. I don't want to look like a tourist when I travel. I love to look like a local and do local things.
And bike riding is the best way
her raw cause you get burned
For sure f***in with the typical horn, because
(Do) rock a Rough Ryder, cause whenever you inside her
Your local
a Rough Ryder, whenever you inside her
Your local bodega is your supplier
And DON'T, take the pussy, if she fighting
Cause you saw what happened to Tupac
(Yeah)
Bike rides and cul de sacs
With my boys never going back
Lemonade stand on my front porch
I got the ice for your drink when the sun scorch
comes to the line I shoot free throws
Tryna figure out how you got them jeans on
Baby grew some wings its time to leave home
Who became the supplier when
on a crowded street corner
Waiting for the local coroner's
Chrome car supplier,
The daily handout & discount flyers
She or he sits
At the island loudly
Engaging
from the stock of parts available, at a local chain of head shops, Planet K
A large ceramic bowl about the size of a tuba mouthpiece sitting on top
the music scene
They at the local farm living collectively
They getting it, they selling it, I'm talking patchouli
She cuts her own hair, she speaks veganese
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