| Time to turn the heat up like it’s Bali
|
| Throwing all these bands while we in Follies
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| Horseman on my emblem, but it’s headless
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| Roof gone now we driving down to Venice
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| She so good at what she do I might bust a move
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| Jaw been on a lock while I sprinkle molly rock
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| How come when I’m coming down’s the only time you need me?
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| How come when I’m popping is the only time you see me?
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| She so good at what she do
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| Ain’t no room for talking
|
| Ain’t no room for talking
|
| Ain’t no room for talking
|
| Mixing tinted liquor
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| I ain’t fucking with no white shit
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| I don’t trust an OP
|
| So many photos that I cropped
|
| DNA trappings in my genes, yeah
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| Bought myself a pair of Balmain jeans, yeah
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| Remember when I traveled with that ball, yeah
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| Remember when I sold them that rerock, yeah
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| Mixing up that Raf with that Margiela
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| Walking passed my ex now she get jealous
|
| Wait hold on had to put down on that Rari
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| Wait, hold on, did that VLONE like I’m Bari
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| Pull up on the plug let him know I need a pint
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| Don’t ask for a sip, no, I’m not selling lines
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| If she coming to the crib then she knows that it’s a pine ting
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| Hit it then pass it to my slime
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| You try to dap me up after the show
|
| No, no, no, no, no, no, no
|
| You wanna sip my drink, yeah
|
| You wanna do my blow
|
| No, no, no, no, no, no, no
|
| She so good at what she do I might bust a move
|
| Jaw been on a lock while I sprinkle molly rock
|
| How come when I’m coming down’s the only time you need me?
|
| How come when I’m popping is the only time you see me?
|
| She so good at what she do
|
| Ain’t no room for talking
|
| Ain’t no room for talking
|
| Ain’t no room for talking
|
| Mixing tinted liquor
|
| I ain’t fucking with no white shit
|
| I don’t trust an OP
|
| So many photos that I cropped
|
| I just ordered two more, now I got three different watches
|
| See my haters talkin'
|
| Make sure that they watchin'
|
| Real bosses listen, talking money when I’m talkin'
|
| Outline you in chalk
|
| Raf or Ricky, when I walk in
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| Wylin' like I’m Stone Cold Steve, I fucked a bitch in Austin
|
| Just pass me the rock
|
| I don’t know how much I pop
|
| Dissin' Derek, that ain’t wise
|
| 88 bullets gon' drop him
|
| Chicken in the pot
|
| Got your girl watching my cock
|
| In New York I milly rock
|
| My shooter tote a 30 he can’t hide it in his sock
|
| I am not a rapper, all these other rappers soft
|
| They hoping I fall off
|
| But bitch I’m at the top
|
| I’m just a brown boy from the block
|
| She so good at what she do I might bust a move
|
| Jaw been on a lock while I sprinkle molly rock
|
| How come when I’m coming down’s the only time you need me?
|
| How come when I’m popping is the only time you see me?
|
| She so good at what she do
|
| Ain’t no room for talking
|
| Ain’t no room for talking
|
| Ain’t no room for talking
|
| Mixing tinted liquor
|
| I ain’t fucking with no white shit
|
| I don’t trust an OP
|
| So many photos that I cropped |