Lyrics:
he gotta tell his boys
When it come to sex, don't test my skills
'Cause my head game have you head over heels
Give a nigga the chills, have him pay
he gotta tell his boys
When it come to sex, don't test my skills
'Cause my head game have you head over heels
Give a nigga the chills, have him pay
bet not try it wit me got da iron wit me like fuck parole
Running through a check wit Tae we gon flex today cuz that package gone
All my niggas love me
Bro just took a nigga bag he adding pressure,
Come try to test him and Ima bless ya
pop a pill and I get louder than a wrestler
Forever reckless
Test the realesst
Stay focused and keep the enemy near us
Niggas is careless, slipping up
Switching up teams
Crossing over and getting stuck
For their
scared to test the limits that's beyond ya
I said mangia mangia
Bitch I am a monster
Be underneath yo bed working out blowing ganja
Get it how you live it
package
I know the whole house is funky when they rip the package
Everlasting, headed for hell or the jail cell
Won't be a monkey for them crackers like
heartbroken on the holidays, my dawgs in them cells
They be like, man just keep on going souldja
You got a story to tell, and I do
Imma call this Yung Souldja
A on the damn test
She asking questions like it was test
If we don't fuck then she gon get upset
Dripping sauce it's okay to stare
Putting kush all in the air
I feel the serpents working doing dirt till I feel hurting
So I rap my pain and package inside of verses
My younger cousin going through pain that's
equiped, don’t test me
I’m the whole package you boys are the sashes
You boys is has beens, once weres whereas I’m ‘sace
You boys have me laughing, You boys
a lot tell me what's next
Never fail I got to prevail when I get test
God made me a good nigga; Prichard made me a hood nigga
Quarters in a wishing well I
bitch serve the whole hood keep the block lit
I don’t see no Charlotte OGs I put my self on
Got the tracking number from the package off the cell phone
backin you
Every rap fan knows that a trash can is the
Only way to package you
Find you with a twelve
Gauge on Pennsylvania Avenue
My mental state'll test
me
So I stand on the block while they keep trying to be me
I got stuck in that cell and they ain't wanna free me
Don't touch me at all, nigga, fuck
middle aged or old
They manufacturing synthetic Similac
And Enfamil in the same test tubes
Billionaires use to chef up third world vax
Attached them toys
of a barrel resonation
Chamber with a flat base and a stem rising up diagonal from there
That was in my interior pocket
We didn't have cell phones, I had
To the store, I'm taking grills Godfather just gave hold of cell phones
Just trying to get them right, but it's all hell wrong
I want each block to excel on with
dip in the package and pull out the Za my niggas bout action
Just like an actor but we in the field
Got niggas living through me up in a cell
The money
stars, drive fast cars, still wear a vest for protection at the bar
Smoke me a spliff, talk big shit, never in my life will I ever will slip
Don't test
motherfucker and a smoking Beretta
They say, "Celph wild, he be eating flesh"
But I don't ever die I'm a
Crash test dummy with GPS
Give a fuck if you a Folk
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