Lyrics:
Oh my god, are y'all twins
Shark up out the water, I just left from by the bay
I just fucked your main hoe, got her wetter than a tank
Feel like
from that back that bitch just be yelling
He ain't got money so imma just Zelle him
Nigga I been ballin like Kyrie Irving
Yeah
Yeah yeah
I'm not talking
and you know I'm way too high
I ain't think about that bitch cause I got money on my mind
Ay, bitch, skirt, skirt might pull up in a Bently Coupe
Fonem
around a real nigga
All they do is still niggas ideas
And rhythm with 'em
Holla something similar
Talking bout the hood
Like they hung in 'em
I got
to
The Rhythm
Well I came here for something funky to happen
Is this Christmas 'cause everybody's rappin
You better get sparked by the song that I sing
got wise by hard livin'
I sleep all day, smoke haze, manage` women
I spit these hard rhythms, it feel like a car hit 'em
So leave that boy alone, can't
Now I know she ain't you but she's here and she's got that dark rhythm in her soul
But I'm too over the edge and I ain't in the mood anymore
To remember
guap by serving
No time for no heart, she been broke my heart
Whole mindset changed I'm nervous
The money got a nigga flirting, She said she don't wanna
money, money, money, money ain't the motive
What's your name again? Nobody knows it
Don't speak to me nigga, you not important
I'm focused
They say I'm
Music, or sellin' crack by the Grove
I ain't talkin' about dick, but I'mma stock it to hoes
I'm not gonna grow, I'm the type to explode
Hit this song
shooter gone shoot, he related to Curry
I got the eye, I’m not talm' bout Irving
Everyone gone die, don’t play my emotions
My diamonds not a lake, they call
nigga he a cub he a junkie sipping mud
Catch him lacking in the club slid on you an yo big cuz
What got him killed sipping mud slow reactions boy you dumb
Mister Charlie Lindbergh, he flew to old Berlin
Got 'im a big Iron Cross, and he flew right back again
To Washington, Washington
Misses Charlie
This is your album, so that means you definitely got to get funky, so run it
[The D.O.C.]
Swinging, singing a brand new rap
On a rhythm concocted by
Got the women telling me that I ain't cute
But my Mom thinks I am so bitch fuck you
I got mad swag
I got hella ice
2 bags from the Irving just to be
kind of dope
Knowing people got your back is what allows you to grow
I travel round the globe, rhythm I romanticize
And get around so my fanbase
Yea I bite my tongue for no one man you ain't heard bout me
You should've knew it was him by the way that I talk and the men I keep
Makin a name
eyes
When I ride it's a murderous rhythm
And outside became pitch black
A demon glued to my back whispering, "Get 'em"
I got 'em, and I ain't give
in others’ thrown outs
And besides that Max’s old and run by a Punjabi snot
They ain’t gonna miss him
My bullet will look good in his Buddha temple
ain't got
What she got, weak knees lock
Go deeper, she was
One of a kind
Loveable dime
But, she was mine
What she want in a guy
Hindsight says that's
send them to the morgue
Cause shit I'm getting bored
Ain't no competition for me and all my boys
Bad bitch and she gone strip like she Tamaki
Got a body
(Rhythm)
No currency, peace is what I'm maintaining,
So currently green ain't what I been chasing,
You know what I do? I just stay silent feel
makes me jump
Got black to asian, and caucasian sayin'
That's the joint, that's the jam'
Let your body collide to the rhythm provided by the
Black
antlers
Cancerous cause I ain't got no time to play
When I ask you a question
Answer is the lie where you lay
Lay where you die
Never wake up die where you
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