Lyrics:
This the typa beat make a nigga wanna talk cocky
All my niggas match poles and woods you cannot drop me
On the road I'm in yo hood you cannot pop me
Say I won't go drop a double album, and rap double time on all dub-step
Got no producers, just me rockin' over beatboxin' by Dougie Fresh
Say I won't
to be music that did it
But then again times have changed man, who are we kiddin'?
I'm managed by my friends that I grew up with
I'd rather give that
lyrical rifle pull up like it's Bird Season
Brrp bap bap drop a grung Like Bird feedin
Who mi a talk every deejay inna the world heed this
Mi come fi tief
I got the heat I got the heat, laugh in the face of defeat
Victory tastes so sweet, breaking the beat well I'm skating the street
Jordans be laced
hop on a beat
That's I say, "Huzzah" cause I know I'm gonna drop the heat
It must be celebrated, being dope this far
Will I ever stop? I'll leave that
that, Royce, where you at?
I'm right here Fire Marshall, verbal pair of pliers, I pry apart you
Lump on your head designed by a bar stool
Designed by
on me hoes fucking off the way I talk
I got this glizzy on me you can tell by the way I walk
He was mr. tough guy now he outlined in that chalk
Yea now he
During an earthquake, urine in your face
'Cause you're fake, ah, what the fuck? That hurt, wait
Ah, what the fuck? I just got struck by lightning
times
Close your eyes, let me heat it up
Cause when we fuck I refuse to bust a nut until I beat it up
Drop the top, time to fuck while the wind blow
times without even tryin
I'll beat that pussy up there's no denyin
Hit her where she doodie at, make that booty fat
Little cutie rat, walking by with
name all on her chest
Dropping hit right after hit
But I still ain't even drop my best
I know that's a nasty bitch
I seen hickies on her neck
I know
shooters that are watching for me.
I'm heavy, I'm colder,
Better me know, sir,
I can tear apart mc's
But I'd rather read a book on childcare by Keri
I drive fast cars, eat lunch by lakes
and meet a hundred different bitches when I drop new tapes
I had to sacrifice, get things right
In this rap
posed to be my patna, and that shit by any means
In yo dm's it was poppin', niggas slidin' like some feins
If I see 'em, and I drop 'em, would that make
pledge allegiance to the 12 gauge Mossberg
I'm that nigga Mr. Sawed-off Leather face got a big gun in your face
Behind that bush and when they roll by
We
time the beat drops
Stop
Wait, wait, wait, hold on, hold on
The beat going to drop, I promise the beat going to drop
This shit's so hard
I be itchin', I
just to see me
Creep in danger, be so major, that the Lakers, had to keep me
On retainer, they cannot beat me, got three trainers, tryna read me
Meet
three (Yuh)
Saying that I am the one her team needed
Like she's Billie Jean (Wha?)
Don't really need to beat all of these drama games (Nah)
I've clearly
people
My music bangin like vatos locos got rap in a choke hold
And I won't surrender it with, beats by Timbaland
Cállate la boca, my baby
All I wanna
by myself, now that I’m up they want some wealth uhh
Uhh, I be ballin’ like an athlete
You a bumass lame boy you can’t past me
I’m runnin’, runnin’,
Got a AK
And a Glock
But no opps
O well
Up in the morning
Chasing the C
I'm going hard
Judge by the beat
No feelin In us
Don't cry
Retreat
Kissing
to the G
I start flippin that beat
Feel like im just in that zone
In that zone in that zone
Cuz I smoke that home grown
Im on that gutta shit
Peep up though
a hot piece up in my sheets
So I slip throat in the alley tho
Grew up with Young Thug playing on stereo
2015 drop Barter 6 and that was all that we needed
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