Lyrics:
lap routes
Chuckled, thumbtack stuck to my knuckles
My suicidal tendencies
Can prove a vital friend of me
I got a basement downstairs
With a room
paid for mine
Road show time gotta slay it now
Low profile but my chrome in tact
But that uprise is another battle
9 mill on my belt, I ain’t talking no
charismatic
Kush smoke up with fashion
Breathless, asthmatic
The way she bends backwards makes
Me want to race
Her on laps on the rings of Saturn
I can make
not in the trap
And don’t say this shit is Tommy, bitch a Vetement's cap
I got, Balenci the jeans your bitch on my lap
Hotspot, broke ass bitch why you
roll up wit his Cap One
Whats in your wallet nada I lack funds
Ma said use ya words never had to pack guns
Use to runnin round these tracks take a lap
pass me the Baton
Around these niggas we’ve been
Running laps
Something like a marathon
Downtown uptown, them a play my sound
Go tell whoever is running
Well it's Saturday night and you know what that means,
It's time for laps that's right start to rev those machines,
well you may think we're crazy
the ankles weights
I been limping through life
With no ACL nor a ankle brace
Still I could lap me a nigga
If last one to reach
Get a grip I'm the anchor, aye
we go
Listening to the bubbles off the radiator boil
The fan belt is screaming and the barrels roar out for oil
Well, you will hear it coming as she
Pills on my lap riding round real slow
Couple missed calls on my phone girl I know
I ain't never answer 'cus our love done broke
Leto feeling fuckin'
can't run this shit back
Stop tryna confuse me, belt and buckle undoing me
Choose not to love cause I know it'll consume me
Smoke in my system so you
die shit of ik ga het echt houden
Mannen konden allang dood
En die shit zou gebeuren als wij het ook echt wouden
Milli binnen belt me zegt me
Fuck niet
it lap dance, clap clap, passing
I need to drive more safely but she got my belt unfastened
Think about her passion, and lack thereof
I kick her out
the map (he off the map)
And I been runnin' laps straight to that paper while I tote the MAC (huh?)
Put the guys on my back, yeah, I carry my team (my
trap
32 on my lap wanna kick like Jet Li
Cocktail date got the thing on me
I still got smoke don't stress me
Got enough on my plate but
The opps wan'
for some help?
You better go and attack
You see them tugging on your belt
You put yourself on the map
Think I need Jesus
Think that I need need him I
cars, crispy nikes
Gucci belt with the fifth on tight
I swear, this game i’m cautious, contrite
My man got caught
Swear to god I was with him last night
on your sleeve, your name on your belt
Pull it together before I put your brain somewhere else
I'm a trendsetter, shotgun bench presser
Train chin checker,
cheque met m’n broers
Next week ben ik back in de hood
Ik weet je checkt, ja je checkt wat ik doe
Ik zie je belt, jij bent geil, ja ik loev
Ik hoop dat
bitch, let it hit, know they won't
Can't go back to broke, no I won't
Balenciaga 'fit, jeans VLONE
Belt buckle hold my stick, BB stones
I'm on a ship
gebeuren als wij het ook echt wouden
Milli binnen belt me, zegt me
"Fuck niet met die rappers, want jij moet het echt houden"
Stack m'n money voor een
of Jackie's car
Suckin' on chili dogs outside the tastee freeze
Diane's sittin' on Jackie's lap
Got his hand between her knees
Jackie says "hey, Diane
of Jacky's car
Suckin' on a chili dog outside the Tastee Freeze
Diane's sittin' on Jacky's lap
He's got his hand between her knees
Jacky say "Hey Diane
of Jacky's car
Suckin' on a chili dog outside the Tastee Freeze
Diane's sittin' on Jacky's lap
He's got his hand between her knees
Jacky say "Hey Diane
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