Swim in fallopians of Ethiopian women
The wheels are spinning, moon is glistening
Few exquisite, Now if you have witnessed
The youth is twisted, off purple liquid made to cure the sickness
Feel like my vision took a big shift
Smoking that Samson got me lifted
I’m the one who gave your girl cousin them drugs
Your little brother’s plug, Spit instead your mother’s mug
Take a finest bottle, pour the liquor out for em’
Once above, the last shot is for the homie’s lock
Liqour crop, hit the lot, double spinning till the Guinness drop
Pull off in fourth gear, put it in park
The whores, they see me, say the law’s here
My voice is hordes for them, pause there
Like over here, we don’t support fear
Road to the riches, and the course clear
I’m riding till the tears sparking an exhaust tear
Actavis in cactus cooler
I bit the Apple on the Mac computer, you a loser
There ain’t a subject I can’t tackle, either now or sooner
Ain’t got no shoulder pads, but collateral pass to her
Running back, running rap, I bet you wish she knew ya’
Black Lip Pastor, hallelujah (Soulo, Soulo)
Soulo in this ho, that mean this church up in this bitch
Gave her a sermon then I hit, god
I’m an entity into titties, a fat ass, some clean pussy, and some good weed
Knowledge and wisdom in abundance, infinite energy
And I’ll be sure to write night and day, literally
Deadline snapback, Backwoods in my backpack
Xan with that lean nigga, shit you never seen nigga
Put that on my team nigga, 3 i’s, you see me bruh
Careful, you know the game’s T-D-E us
I heard they out there praying for the death of me
I been down to knock, it’s my destiny
I been round the block, it’s no testin’ me
We been ran the north, it’s no extra key
So whatchu’ got on lock my nigga?
I tried to tell him, they ain’t gon’ get it
I been prolific, been on this shit
You can check mo millie, that was like 08′s
You niggas ain’t no factors, Just come around cause we ain’t no actors
It’s no scenes cut, just checks
Don’t waltz 25, but i’ll take my time
If a nigga come around, tryna’ take what’s mine
Tryna’ take my life? good luck with that
We got guns for that, you not coming back
I got fade in the bushes, lurkin’ & lookin’
Bout’ that life, don’t get yours took quick
Just a story of some kids left stranded
Couple of the homies and a couple automatics
Come to the hood, get a good pack out
Tombstone re-ripped, with your hood whacked out
You know what he about, at Romana park till after dark
They drain they pool, we swam with sharks
We shooting fools off 7th street
You make the bed in which you sleep
I stay awake like visiting dead
With the hammer sitting indiscreet, indescreets
Sold drugs in your granny building
In front’ the children
A piece of shit, i’ll be considered the most
Baby hand on the dinner plate
I start the meal with a toast
Three assorted cheeses, they garnish the both
Cut the slices even
Distribute them to my assemblage of these fucking heathens
A bunch of demons in these polo fleeces
I clutch the reapers into bay polices
I burn the Priest and vanish in the breezes
I talk to Jesus, reconsidered features
Rain dance on black sanded beaches
Pick from the tree that bare the fruit of peaches
Slaying these skeezers and it feel the Eden
These backwards got me with the heavy breathing
Connecting Venus and the shit the cheapest
I hit the party with the Sherm perm
Ear rings look like strobe lights
I cop the gold fish platforms for the cold price
Hop out the V in all sequence, fish is Swedish
Sway Padorian, my shit the meanest, you need it
And i’m the founder of this shit
On the forty-sixth floor eating flounder with the shrimp
Got a awfully thick splore and I just pound her with the dick
Get the dope from outta broad, destroy the county with the shit
Piece of shit records, where dreams come true
You saying fuck me? I’m saying fuck you
Paroles2Chansons dispose d’un accord de licence de paroles de chansons avec la Société des Editeurs et Auteurs de Musique (SEAM)
