文本歌词
Produced by: The AlchemistYo, um, yoOh-so-c**ky, you can't stop me in this old Versace***** watch me in the streets like it's roller hockeyYour b***h is floppy, givin' sloppy while she call me papiTakin' the doggies right to the face like she KobiyashiYou ****ing flow is washy, I'm getting' mine dry cleaneTight seam, it might seem, I'm sellin' ****ing pipe dreamHi fiends, I'm back with a bag of them packed white thingsMy Nikes clean, I see these mother****in' hatin' through my ice blingI'm a bad mother****er, I ain't use a rubbeSuper lover, so soon you say hello to your newest brotherThe truest colors what I bleed, but you ain't seen enough of***** leakin', you gon' have to go see the deacon you stupid suckaYoung Dom, say you old b*****s should wrap it upYou wack, focus back on the craft, you hardly rap enoughThe fattest blunt and death to that pop-hop, I ain't ask for muchAnd stop askin' for the collabs cause all you bastards suckThis that thirty deep, it's Saugus shit, fire starter, squadronDodgin' coppers since, ask her why she droppin' cuzIt's probably cause he prodigiousPay the rent easy, leave the bank cheesyAnd bass leave your face greasy, artisan, paint easyThick bristle type ***** on a ***** steezStanzas diesel like Vic Tanny on a fritz,Whoops, system overload, itchin' for a foe to poachSpittin' like the engine on a mother****er' motorboatGold glisten under overcoat, missin' allAffection for these niggas, redirectin' all these niggasVery literal, type to sip the Mickeys out of cerealDrunk and drivin', twisty, how he inked up in the swimming pool?Hundred stand against me, I'm a menace void a villain, sue meDrivin' into fences cause I hit the whip a little woozy***** I'm busy cruisin', 'scuse meCan't even walk up in the church without these niggas tryna testifyI live to die, better that than to live a lieI rap better than most these rap veteransHard-headed and hopeless, hope that God let us inMomma didn't wanna give birth to a niggaShould've murdered a nigga, I'm a cancer to the youthAutomatics out the roof, 380 with the weave in itOn site, scary as prom nights with CarrieOr car rides with Berry, that's Halle not BrentShootin' like Brent and his brother, doin' what daddy had didNiggas want Grammys and shit, that's funny to meCause since the first take it's been about money to meI'm just tryin' to get what Diddy got, doing what got Biggie shotThey told me that I wasn't shit, but left me in a litter boxGive it up and get a jobUh, get a job b***hI'm like the boss from the end of the Nintendo gameMy brain is on another level, I can feel the Devil's painOnly address me by my reverend name: the good doctorThe good author, good brain in a good PorscheDancin' drunk in dress pants like I'm a hunkBackflip in a jacuzzi, forty floors inside the TrumpFront-flip into this high yellow Chinese b***h's rumpThen she make me chicken broccoli for lunchI roll a joint like a Motumbo arm, I'm high cousinEvery time I roll the dice it's five hundredWhen I order wine, it's nine hundred, French chefs kneel before meEnd of story take a shorty to the sorteeThat's the bathroom, you already know what happens thereI pull my swimming trunks down, she suck me through the boxerWhile I'm wearin' flip-flops, shit's real, grip the wheel, lift steelThat's itWoo, **** yeah, helloFan fare, bravo, encore
