Lyrics:
what?
Skirr donuts i`m (soooo serious)
(Mack 10)
I don`t talk about it
I be about it
I drive by
& bust heat about it
In the front page you`ll
Rap ain't nothin' but cash, money, bitches, foreign cars and trees
Cristal by the cases, bad bitches by the flocks
I know I promised my niggas I'd
'em gone i'm out in Brooklyn moving
Just broke the digi' scale
They broke, they wanna see me fail
'cause their bag is stale
Crab cakes and cocaine
Give me the cue
Skip the introduction
Proceed the lip function
The junction get rushed by some grimy people busting weed
Splatter your melons like
a Cuban link
With ice bergs
Type to make her eyes twirl
Beanie made by Yeezy
That she'd never rock
That's my girl
Icing on the veevees
Look like cake
I
A trouble maker, bitcher taker, a scorpio
Naughty by Nature, my Unit brings the Flavor
We cake up like make up, and in New York
Fuck the daily news,
that's what my cousin Meechie say
But we could pull about five, I'm talkin' five, that's just by either way
Five million for my album, that's an easy
to Florida City, Opa-Locka
By way to Overtown and look at this city
Open to Grove and the South Miami
Wedwood Highlear, look Eddie, look 'Bana
Some many ice
you ride around ya city
And now its goin down like the beats by Nitti
Meet me in the mall. Or meet me where they all
Fall through like the temp
of wine
The clock is usually running out
Down by one or could be tied
I'm fading back
Winding up
The championship on the line...but...
What
a C-note
Wiggin' out, I'm givin' out free smoke
Hater love to doubt ace
I live in the kitchen baking pound cakes
Supreme clientele, never clout chase
it's a fan base
The unfettered veteran, the eagle feathered man of medicine
That hovers above cities like weather men
And maybe weather woman
Another year another hope
(27 in a row)
Lets get the cake and make a toast
(27 in a row)
He keeps on givin the blessings on the roll
(27 in a row)
Come through in the prettiest Porshe, the grittiest wars
State gotta talk till the city get hoarse
I'm the icin' on the cake, gangsta of the state
car
Blowing horns like Miles Davis
At the pearly gate, God let me in
Give me a room by Aaliyah with ESPN
I know I got more sins than two lesbians
Been
now we got mobile phones
Me and my homies used to battle at the park
We had to be back on our street by the time it got dark
We used to wear cross
through the record
I'm a Philly boss player, a dope rhyme say-er
It's Black Ink back gettin' cake by the layer
by the stack, comin' at us, get your weight
Black Ink back gettin' cake by the layer
By the stack, comin' at us, get your weight right yeah
If not, you makin' a mistake right there, f'real
I
the king
And everything else written by thirteen
One album, ten singles, all released
Now eleven, more cooking, with the heat
Dreams for the future getting
airways in my wake
Swaying architecture, grappling a birthday cake
It's analogy backfire, in the cliché storm of backwards prose
Shoot the agony beam
You know I'm tryna get rich
These niggas just tryna get by
So imma keep popping my shit
Just like the 4th of July
Spread my wings like a eagle
These
and my mom is really great
So they’re the reason why I’m steady tryna get this cake dawg
This for all my homies that be waiting on my albums
This for all
put an extra lime on my water glass (I'm so sorry)
An hour later here she come by walking past
(I hate to be a pest but my son would love your
all this cake
A hundred thousand for the safe
Just bought a pound and I'ma face it
Now watch me
You niggas see my pieces, try to copy
My Rollie
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