Lyrics:
Collective process
Purge out that bullshit
Your dreams have purpose
I'm a Lone Ranger ninja no sidekick
Chop up your pipe lines
Slice Trudeau's government
knows me
'Cah I made her strip like the front line
Fuck a party I ain't got time to rave
Got a Ferrari in the microwave
Me and my girl went
sober
Persons serve for purpose like workers
If this clowns is makin' Hip Hop a circus
Me and my architect, mark my sweat
Bring up the engine, better
niggas turn they back against they own like who need those
Manifest my time
working on my mind
Breathalyzer matha fucka
Don't you dare get out of line
Herd
cowards with their jewels, I feel to confiscate
My worker keeps fuckin' up the count, I tell him, "Concentrate"
I need a house all on a lake, I got guns
Snort your crack lines
I live by my guys (gang)
flying to the moon (high, high)
Hope you fly high (die, die)
Kicked out of your house (what)
Dirty skullet
I'm a cloud surfer, dream chaser, and a hard worker Sunrise filled with tequila, now we
Getting turnt up Weed up in the blunt, now the end is getting
on your head
Read the papers, shake your heads
White collar workers collect your pay
Don't you see there's blood on your hands
When you cut some corners
"You'll get better"
See from young I went country, no worker ting, real trendsetter
A slim chance is a big hope to a real trap baby
I lost two grams
a mess so I set
Up camp at the crossroads
To wage war on the skulls and crossbones
I'm drawing these lines and
They're gonna be
Harder to pass than gall
a twist of lime
Who you niggas foolin'? (Who?)
'Cause we ain't got a bit of time
You didn't run wit' us
But now you here at the finish line
I told niggas I
Face's hot and I need me a worker
She brucks her back, she's
A well-known twerker, twerker
Mad brizz got my toes curl up
When you hit red gates can't go no
servin' my line
Ain't been racist in my life but I was murderin' white
All my packages are flappin' like they're birds in the sky
Hit these beats
from twenty drawers to twenty boxes, we ain't the same (same)
I'm like Mogobi in this game
Nike tracky and a line, servin' cats who on the mains
I
for the Instagram
Fuck a YJ lurker
I'm a big joint burner
Hooray for the nine-to-five workers
Bradford Crew straight live from the decks
Few white
reminds me of the days
When we lived as slaves
They just denied the migrant workers
Federal aide and people tell me poverty
Doesn't have any color
Well it
they won't be no next time
Took a puff while I thought
About my next line
Head fried but I got morals that I live by
So I could never pull a knife on my
homie about it but I kept it brief enough
Four hours at the gym, workers think I'm getting buff
Everybody at the crib know I'm the least healthy one
the case
I still spend four bills a month to keep my beater safe
My workers spend a whole hour coolin' at the meetin' place
Now I'm phonin', lookin' for
a afraid
You'll find your way
Hey auto worker, I ain't blind
I see ya punchin' out for one last time
Weight of the world weighin' on your mind
Buddy,
a celebrity coke line
Fuck a whip, I pull out to the event in a helicopter
My nigga Bunz bodyguarding like Kevin Costner
So you can try and bump my li'l
on the front-line, in a war I don't understand man
[Hook]
[E.S.G.]
Now police pull me over, found a glock and a extra clip
Ask me who I rap with, do I know who shot
on the front-line, in a war I don't understand man
[Hook]
[E.S.G.]
Now police pull me over, found a glock and a extra clip
Ask me who I rap with, do I know who shot
in my freezer
Got nothing left to learn
I'm your man
I'm the hoochie coochie toker
I'm the first in line
There ain't no-one here to match me
I'm
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