Lyrics:
your dreams
Man you can pick me out like food in between
Your two front teeth 'cause you be like in the streets
We got beefy ass beats that we bumpin'
he got two Glocks
All he rock is track suits and Nike socks
And Maybach Mitch on the beat too, bitch
Ooh, bitch, ooh, ooh, ooh
Ooh, bitch, Ike
Just to
Rap on tracks
Comin' at me was suicide
You knew the price
Before you scrutinised
Where my future lies
You'd have a better chance shootin dice
it a track and this is the shit for which producers are praised? They program a beat, they smile and press play.
I’ve got poison in my veins, fire in
really knew you good
And oh, God's blessing from the entire neighborhood
And as the days drift, drift into the future
I laugh a little louder
Steve gon beat it up
That bitch ass so fat, It’s like a masterpiece
I’m the fucking best, ain’t nothing after me
You know me, I’m puffing on that
Ha ha, yeah! I go by the infamous name of B-Eazy. Barge House! You may catch me flying down I-35, or rolling down I-20. And they always ask
Who dat?
And every word
Would sound like this
They'd all be unheard
Just for you
Secrets for two
Anything to prove our love is true
Stars grow apart
Year by year
watch skat
Straight from the factory, and test drive it at the track
Back streets, interstates, at yo door making noise
What change is the ride I'm in,
the dirt but I'm on my way
Improving by a fraction yuh
Plan on putting on the shirt when I get my pay
And that is not a question yuh
But God is always on my
etiquette
I'm definitely very inspired by that, man
I appreciate you and everything you do
Shout out to Gonzalo
Shout out to motherfuckin' Malcolm
Nigga, who
your pores
Got that work like a chore
Sellin it like the store
I got cameras on the wall
On the wall like decor
I don't have 1,2 or the 3
I have 4
Words by Adrian Mitchell, music by Arlo Guthrie
Victor Jara of Chile
Lived like a shooting star
He fought for the people of Chile
With his songs
no apology I diss em
And so I rip facts to dope tracks I caress
You're gonna hear about it, from JFK 2 LAX
Off to work we go
In the weapon factory
I'm on a super high
Shooting through my life on a superbike
Too precise inciting mcs
Into their suicide
Do
Alright
1, 2
1, 2, 3, 4
Yeah
Memories of sitting at the bus stop
The hustle and bustle surrounding me as I untwine
Junior high, we said goodbye to the days
Now Gzeppy's in Giuseppe's
My future is super like Dragon ball Z
Beerus bars I'm the G.O.D
Hakai enemies, destroy this beat
You won't forget me, no
standing on my own two feet
Out of the doorway the bullets rip
Repeating to the sound of the beat
Another one bites the dust
Another one bites the dust
the doors
You want to try to match my whits with yours
Three hits, I hit you, you hit the floor
This track is the third hit, that's for sure
Beat thick
sir, I'm such a real lady
Ride in Mercedes to make the bitches hate me
Cruise up and down one-two-fifth
Lookin for a guy like you to get with
[beat
illusion, aye
I see my future
Its Big n Beautiful
Im Ballin since a juvenile
I make dis shit look usual
Winnin on da usual
We beat da opps like Fruity
do I entertain y'all with my disrespect?
Respectfully (Great John on the beat, by the way)
Lil Nas X gon' catch AIDS and die like Eazy-E (he is)
I beat yo' ass twice and you still here
Seven years old, think you run this house by yourself?
Nigga, you gon' fear me if you don't fear no one else
I beat yo' ass twice and you still here
Seven years old, think you run this house by yourself?
Nigga, you gon' fear me if you don't fear no one else
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