Tommy & Nina

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PïC Hoover

3:31

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Pretty boy swag, so the scars on my face
Ain't addin up, but you can do the math
No booth, no pen, no pad

Piff Navigatin my mind, on the path to first class
I ain't from Philly, but I'm really in my bag
My niggas be ridin' out for next to nothin' like a dollar cab
And my hoes, don't holla back

Unless you show them where the dollars at, I'll show you where the drama at, uh
Got the gat strapped, crack in the knapsack
Dope in the backpack, piff under my snapback
If the cops come, I tell my bitch to snatch that, stash that

Get the gat from under where the dash at, nah
Scratch that, matter fact, give me the gat back
Here go some guap, hop out, catch a cab back
Aight, cause I ain't goin' back without a fight

They catchin' me, somebody gotta die tonight
Listen, let me get back to killin' this shit
Ay son, you crazy as a bitch if you ain't feelin' this shit
Listen, f*ck all the opposition and competition

Been sharin' my opinion and my vision, but no politician
Really, I'm just playin' my position
Puttin' this shit together, use my mind, f*ck a composition
And they say weed f*ck with your comprehension

Kids don't listen, them teachers is bullshittin
Listen, really I'm a magician musician
You say my name one time, bet that ass go missin'
Listen, I'm just uplifting my division

We subtractin' all the bullshit, really seein' a difference
Get it, you can't keep up, you need to get your reading up
I'm so cold, been had niggas freezin' up
I'm too gluttonous, any beat, I'ma eat it up

So far, I'm just heatin' this one up
Now you ain't catch it, I'ma rocket P.E.D
Roger Clemens, you get a hit
I guarantee that you won't get a second

Check it, y'all niggas pockets lookin' anorexic
gun in the left, gun in the right
I'm shootin' ambidextrous
Hold up, I need a second

And now I'm comin' back for seconds
Give me any beat and I go ralph ima wreck it
Respect it or check it, you come at my neck
And I leave you necklace, huh

Ah, there go PiC talkin' reckless
That motherfucker mush really got a death wish, huh?
Nah, I really catch wreck, bitch
But I ain't gettin' in all that

You get the message
See, see, I can't really luxury rap
Look at my life, they be like, damn, where his luxury at
See, I'd be lyin' if I said I had racks on racks

But I ain't lyin' when I say I'm peelin' caps all the way back
Real rap, that's all I spit
These other rappers talk that shit, but they just talkin' that shit
Y'all can all kiss my ass and suck my dick

Everybody call me piC cause I ain't got no picks, huh?
That's right, I said it
The f*ck, ain't you comprehendin'
Damn, can you believe how cocky this motherfucker gettin'

I ain't even got no deal, pissin' rappers off
Niggas want Twitter beef
That ain't nothin' but spam to me
Cause me, I'm still in these streets

I'm tryin' to get out
That's why I'm killin' all these Beats shit
I need my wheels plus size like ToCara
My whole forum in a rim like Vince Carter

I need my whip to have runnin' spring water
I don't even know if that's possible
That's some shit I just thought of
Tommy and Nina, that be my son and my daughter

They'll make sure that you never have a son or a daughter

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