Left No Evidence Larry June, The Alchemist & Evidence
On this page, discover the full lyrics of the song "Left No Evidence" by Larry June, The Alchemist & Evidence. Lyrxo.com offers the most comprehensive and accurate lyrics, helping you connect with the music you love on a deeper level. Ideal for dedicated fans and anyone who appreciates quality music.
[Intro: Larry June]
You gon' lose a lot of people when you better yourself
Cold game
We outside, though
Numbers
Ayy-ayy-ayy, ayy-ayy-ayy
Uh, uh
Good job, numbers
[Verse 1: Evidence]
No second impression on first entrance
Hits when I'm swingin' for the fences (Gone)
A lot of shit I did, I didn't mention
A lot of shit I did for no credit and good intention
A lot of shit I said that deaded friendship, uh
Rappers basic, they lack imagination
Backwards statements at me
God blessed me for my acts of patience
Roads that's leading home like all the train tracks to stations
Ran through a string of queens, the king is back to aces (Back to aces)
A dirty game but I'm an optimist
When they say it's all the same, I say the opposite
Cook on the chopping block, crook if you choppin' bricks
Put it in reverse 'til we fuckin' first then watchin' flicks
Doin' cocky shit like makin' heat to floppy disks
L.A. won't let me rock no ice without a hockey stick (L.A., L.A.)
Think sun and dirty oxygen, ain't no boundaries boxin' him
Ain't clockin' out or clockin' in
You gon' lose a lot of people when you better yourself
Cold game
We outside, though
Numbers
Ayy-ayy-ayy, ayy-ayy-ayy
Uh, uh
Good job, numbers
[Verse 1: Evidence]
No second impression on first entrance
Hits when I'm swingin' for the fences (Gone)
A lot of shit I did, I didn't mention
A lot of shit I did for no credit and good intention
A lot of shit I said that deaded friendship, uh
Rappers basic, they lack imagination
Backwards statements at me
God blessed me for my acts of patience
Roads that's leading home like all the train tracks to stations
Ran through a string of queens, the king is back to aces (Back to aces)
A dirty game but I'm an optimist
When they say it's all the same, I say the opposite
Cook on the chopping block, crook if you choppin' bricks
Put it in reverse 'til we fuckin' first then watchin' flicks
Doin' cocky shit like makin' heat to floppy disks
L.A. won't let me rock no ice without a hockey stick (L.A., L.A.)
Think sun and dirty oxygen, ain't no boundaries boxin' him
Ain't clockin' out or clockin' in
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