Lyrics:
out like I was Tanqueray
'Cause you're my fella, my guy
Hand me your Stella and fly
By the time I'm out the door
You tear men down like Roger Moore
Only 10's or better yea you know my speed
Pull up on her wit finesse yea I'm so Kyrie (Kyrie)
Meet her at 1 she coming out them clothes by 3
Cuz I'm that
for a milli
Damn that’s a shame
Need it up front I don’t play no games
I stay in the cut is why surge is the name
Came from the gutta I climbed out
when I'm accounting
It be money coming in and coming out it, paper cut the money
Dummy niggas, I been thumbing out it
Trying not to run up out it in
I'm old kind of worn out inside
I worked my whole life in the steel mills of Gary
And my father before me I helped build this land
Now I'm
control)
Well, they can watch me fuck it up all in one night
I'm in my city in the summer, camo'd out
Leather booted, kissing bitches in the club
They
these beats, I'm hungry bitch it's lunch time
Hit the pen got me floating, think I'm out my damn mind
JayRoze been flowin, we stars we bout to shine
Young
dawg go serve em by the bunch
I keep me a gun, I'm killin' these niggas, I'm shootin' for fun
He say he gon' blitz, but he really gon' run
I'm out in
the wicked lyrics enchant like Dumbledore
Now you can bet on Miz and that's guaranteed for sure
Like if you had Many Moore you'd be tapping it raw
rappers are
Air cracks and fractures it ain't ye rear view
S'like ye seein a fractal image, y'eyes deceive you
Reach forth into what is actually a dimensional
Cut, stab, chop, ouch!
Welcome to the Slaughterhouse!
Left your daughter out
Now I got her by the pouch
And I'll turn her out, with my mouth
'cause I
niggas pull up, bust you (boom)
Don't work out, but I got muscle (yeah)
When we in the whip, we clutchin'
If we up it, we gon' bust it (boom)
Let 'em
out like I was Tanqueray
'Cause you're my fella, my guy
Hand me your Stella and fly
By the time I'm out the door
You tear men down like Roger Moore
the seed who sucked the milk from Mahalia
You wishin' Shaolin Island could be swallowed up by the sea
Gobbled up, like the lost city of Moore and Atlantis
Straite, who are you...It's I.Q. ...taking
These crews out by twos making moves to confuse....who could
Refuse the
Flave the way we shape it like
(This is it, Gary)
Now I'm running
Now I'm ducking
Now he bluffing
Now he huffing
Last bits of air
This shit ain't nothing
I'm a rockstar
After this
they house on Zillow
AK on the table and the
Glock right by my pillow
Fuck it, trap it out, fuck it, fuck it
Trap it out
Fuck it, trap it out, fuck it
If I could play in the NBA
I would be that six-four all day shootin that trey
I dribbled to the outside and passed it to Shaq
they double teamed
intact
They tryna join the squad but this ain't that no it don't work like that
Cut him off the second that I heard he turned into a rat
Got Gary Payne,
and get 'em out to (call your girls and call your boys up)
Help you cut it loose, (cut it loose) shake that caboose (oh yeah)
Nothing cuts me loose like
the court, I was like DJ Unk
Bitch, I walked it out (Eastside, walk it out)
Back on my shit (Southside, walk it out)
And I bet the same niggas ain't talkin'
Fucked a bitch who's gettin stacked
Keep it moving less you movin' this pack
Whatcha say Gucci?
I was thinking out loud
Bout what?
Sellin whole better
of it 'cause I'm
Who takin' care of it
Your lil' bitch said she won't
Fuck me 'cause I'm arrogant
My plug used to let me hold
Them babies like a surrogate
last shot, gotta take it,
No more rules, gotta break it,
Don't count me out
TRACK WRITTEN BY: TOM QUICK
ALEX BITTLES GARY CONNOR
MATTHEW STRAFFORD
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