Lyrics:
choppa sing
Call me young Pentium with no heatsink, yuh
They leg-locked my van up down by Kurt's angle
Worst thing, tho
That your music more generic than
I was 16 when I started off in the Lionz Den
I was rhyming against a nigga twice my
Age but I was fire then
Before you, Yung I I I
Cortez even Rich
at my home
I'm with my kind if they right or they wrong
I call him now, he'll pick up the phone
And it's five in the mornin', he wakin' up on it
Tell
hangers, winners use the door
So use it, Rosie, that's what it's there for
Rosalita, jump a little higher
Senorita, come sit by my fire
I just want
hangers, winners use the door
So use it, Rosie, that's what it's there for
Rosalita, jump a little higher
Senorita, come sit by my fire
I just want
Just bring the liquor; there's already eight shawties
I'm on my way (way); let me stop by the store
Get a twelve pack of Corona plus a ounce of 'dro,
be dead
Yeah, I'm reppin' the fifties
And so is my gun, we'll be twinnin'
You know how we get it in son
Confidence heavy, 'cause ain't none 'em fuckin'
ass the door
I got that brand new sound
Built it up from underground
Got that fire by the pound
So light the gas and hit the ground
Yo I got that brand
lethal
My girl at the crib and she don't know better
Pine green outside, inside leather
Float on the beat so light like a feather
She rung my line like
the consequence
You are making my heart feel sick
Put your clothes back on, double-quick"
"Silly boy, you think me a saint
I'll listen no more to your words
no dough
BABygirl close the door
Coming home selling hard
Bitched is up on my line
Party hard kicking hard
Lets forget about time
I'm the light
grandfather, aunt, and half-brother lived next door, they would
Not watch her for any length of time
I was renting out rooms of my three-bedroom, two-bath mobile
sleeves.
Four-door swoosh made by Nike.
Drop-top jumpan suit, by Mike E.
Got to like my player, I'm in it for the dough.
I'm in it for show, matter fact
/(light light light)
But my writing is like Nolan and my background's a better story /
Here's more of me, Sri Lanka to US is the course of me /(stand up)
Fire it up
High grade in my joint when I light up
Roll up by the 2 Gs
Cause I do not smoke on minor
Money Trees on my body
Cause T Dubb my designer
I
Rewind the clip
Yeah, I'll start by taking back
It's Spring of '17
Sitting shotgun there in my car
You said celebrities are sad, no matter how big or small
fire? Ducking it, hunted like Al Qaeda
Strictly with my mind
Choking niggas like I’m Darth Vader
Stick me on the crucifix
Reappearing days later
Fuck
call me up [phone ring] said it's a ho-tel party
Just bring the liquor there's already eight shawties
I'm on my way (way) let me stop by the store
Get
call me up [phone ring] said it's a ho-tel party
Just bring the liquor there's already eight shawties
I'm on my way (way) let me stop by the store
Get
wanna tip her
Eating at Red Robin's
I ain't tell you
I ain't stoppin
All that talk for the birds I'll do if able
I remember life with no cable
DVDs kept
Verse 1: Brother Marquis
I won't take a bitch to my house
Don't have to see where I'm livin', uh-uh, that's out!
If you want to splak, I know you're
followed by a finger pointing out the door,
You light the room and you light up my heart.
You light the room and you light up my heart,
You give my fire
[Chorus]
And I just had to call ya
I know somethin' there for you and me
Open up the door and you will see
I just had to call ya
If it's cool,
The door was hanging off the hinges (crash)
Her eyes met the metal
She screamed Oh my God
Out the back room the killer with the nose ring
Smashed
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