[Verse 1]
I beat and fucked around to check me a record exec' over this check
I'm not no overnight success
Only thing that ever came through for me in one night
Is Joe Holt in this vest, slow floatin' is best
Argue, go and admit that your wife sent me that "Hey, stranger" text
I gave her that rain check, I Oran "Juice" Jones'd the bitch
I'm bout to take all of your confidence, I guess that is that Wraith I'm in
On 8 Mile with two tones on it
And don't think I won't pull right up on your line in it
When my window down and spray out of it like I'm Ray Donovan
The AK Iron Man on that gun, on it since 8th grade
And he don't take names, he AA Anonymous, it seems I'd ride again
Ya'll pop-outters, all of ya'll Amir tryna salvage your hairline
With ya'll fly down while I fly private when I decided I'm tired of him
I don't hang out with nobody, I play the hand I was dealt
I'll swear I'll phone God, I play my cards like I'm playin' Solitaire
.44's shootin' loud in here, 'bout to leave behind a big black cloudy mami
Click-clack-blowin', your's be "Pewm, pewm" like Vladimir
Gun raps and violence, what the fuck is the problem here?
I'm laid back in an Aston Martin, come holler then
The day that they quit makin .38's and MAC-10's, maybe I'll stop rappin' about 'em
'Til I see that, I'ma be laughin' to media's reaction at me relapsin'
This ain't PG accumen
Tell your A&R I ain't handin' in nothin' rated R
I'm rated G for get the fuck away from me
'Fore I make you get your hands up and play Tracey Lee
You need to make your way home
These bullets got legs that ain't on
These bitches be
I beat and fucked around to check me a record exec' over this check
I'm not no overnight success
Only thing that ever came through for me in one night
Is Joe Holt in this vest, slow floatin' is best
Argue, go and admit that your wife sent me that "Hey, stranger" text
I gave her that rain check, I Oran "Juice" Jones'd the bitch
I'm bout to take all of your confidence, I guess that is that Wraith I'm in
On 8 Mile with two tones on it
And don't think I won't pull right up on your line in it
When my window down and spray out of it like I'm Ray Donovan
The AK Iron Man on that gun, on it since 8th grade
And he don't take names, he AA Anonymous, it seems I'd ride again
Ya'll pop-outters, all of ya'll Amir tryna salvage your hairline
With ya'll fly down while I fly private when I decided I'm tired of him
I don't hang out with nobody, I play the hand I was dealt
I'll swear I'll phone God, I play my cards like I'm playin' Solitaire
.44's shootin' loud in here, 'bout to leave behind a big black cloudy mami
Click-clack-blowin', your's be "Pewm, pewm" like Vladimir
Gun raps and violence, what the fuck is the problem here?
I'm laid back in an Aston Martin, come holler then
The day that they quit makin .38's and MAC-10's, maybe I'll stop rappin' about 'em
'Til I see that, I'ma be laughin' to media's reaction at me relapsin'
This ain't PG accumen
Tell your A&R I ain't handin' in nothin' rated R
I'm rated G for get the fuck away from me
'Fore I make you get your hands up and play Tracey Lee
You need to make your way home
These bullets got legs that ain't on
These bitches be
Comments (0)
The minimum comment length is 50 characters.
Information
Users of Guests are not allowed to comment this publication.
There are no comments yet. You can be the first!