Song parody of

The Journey West

by Dave from Work

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  • English (English)
  • Français (French)
  • Español (Spanish)

I like my vodka and cranberry separately I got blue shells for these niggas ahead of me Eyes in the hills when I move up to Beverly Boys in the field with that nuclear weaponry Heart made of steel I can't chill with no wedding ring Aiming to kill, 50 shots from his head to feet Xio said that she gone wait for a better me Need a new barber to match my new pedigree Ain't no farmers but smoking on evergreen ADHD, didn't hear what you said to me Can't trust a bitch, don't know why these hoes next to me Can't let the past be the past, bitch you're dead to me Told 'em I got 'em, but he ain't in debt to me That's my bro he gone shoot with tec for me Run in your house for that bread like we never eat Lay 'em down like a nigga that never sleeps Oh, that's me Can't take my foot off these rap niggas' necks If I call to collect, better send me that check Or your family's up next On my name put respect Oh, that's me 1 to the head and send 2 to the chest Keep that glock on a track 'til he runs outta breathe And it's hollow tip season, wear 2 or 3 vests 'Til I pack up the camp and we moving out west Oh, that's me We got 5.56 'round here And in the same drake load the .223s Oh, that's me Fuck all that talking we walk it out Good luck with that barking I won't do no arguing If you want that static we spark it out Built on a rock, my foundation For I tread a path where the way's been forsaken My demons they lurk and they're patiently waiting They hope that I slip but this ice got me skating High as a blimp but I'm on like the AC Ouija board flow if a bitch wanna play me Ghost in a shell, I take point like I'm KD Gone smell like febreze when you see what I'm spraying And something's gone shake, niggas March to my cadence Money is King, I'm the God of the pagans I make the call they gone step on vibration Picasso the way with the Tec I be painting Keep me a vest 'cause this life could get dangerous Up off the hip I ain't got time for aiming All these scarecrows cause ya’ll niggas is brainless I’m straight out the mud so I snap like a caiman Oh, that's me Can't take my foot off these rap niggas' necks If I call to collect better send me that check Or your family's up next On my name put respect Oh, that's me 1 to the head and send 2 to the chest Keep that glock on a track 'til he runs outta breathe And it's hollow tip season, wear 2 or 3 vests 'Til I pack up the camp and we moving out west Oh, that's me We got 5.56 round here And in the same drake load the .223s Oh, that's me Fuck all that talking we walk it out Good luck with that barking I won't do no arguing If you want that static we spark it out

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The Journey West

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