Lyrics:
exploring the urbanite theme
Picture the setting and picture the scene
This is a personal album, all of the things about me, are not what they seem
This is
shatter the glass
Itching to stitch up the rat in the pack
I do it for the game not a pat on the back
Got a sitcom album cause we laugh at your tracks
You
J'lâche une bastos, sans forcer
Que des 6-0, sans forcer
On joue à Rolland K-Sos, sans forcer
94.0, sans forcer
Danew By Rohff, bob DT
C'est l'été
it on the low
Went to the notes in my phone n started working on my flow
Been working step by step and now I'm tryna book a show
They thinking that I
wanna catch your shit
You're dumb, in fact you're thick
Played at your own game, pack your shit
No game, but I'm not a no name, I'm an artist
Got
was in my lap and on my head was a top hat
While I was sitting at a table with a rabbit and a rat
And the hand I was dealt with was either sanity
Poppin pills going crazy
Yea I'm felling like a patient
All this pain in my heart
Feel the devil tryna to take me
I'm surrounded by these angels
Shit
spots, yo we tip'n it up
I take two or three chicks, not giving a fuck
Call little clay waist, start pack'n the truck
It's like that, take a cruise
pizza like we blaze n' shit
STOP HATING BITCH!
That happens for degrading shit
We don't smoke on opp packs cause they Lacing shit
Tha God nice tell ya
Wieso liebt jeder mein Style?
Triebtäter Drive-by
Schieb' dir mein Schwanz rein
Ich komm' aus einer Ecke
Wo nicht jedermann lebt
Ich pack' tausende
of the siamese
Twins in we're back in the nineties
Back to a time that's divided
By Batman, Mad Max and Macgyver
But remind us, why would I wanna go
Back
to switch the hue 'cause them LA boys smuggy
But more likely to get hurt by somebody who love me
My lady, she don't trust me (nah), know I'm a sick puppy
All the money and fame, eight by tens
Of the whole Rat Pack inside of a big frame
Collidin' with big names that could've made your career stop
All
don swim
Iget to the boat n float
Surrounded by water i drip
I be feeling like jesus am lit
With some new yezzys im clean
Yeah im spottin tha b trynna
muthafuckas know my name B-A-N-K-$
Cut-clack
The young guerrilla out the clicks, baow
G-Unit’s runnin' this shit, blap
As a matter of fact, I smell a rat
You
you gotta do em like that?
How you want beef but you ain't living like that?
Dior bucket hat with the Gucci bag
Smoking cookies I'm lit of the gas pack
that I have to keep it a stack
My last album dropped now where you at
My last fifty went into a pack
Now where all the bitches be at
Feeling so scrub,
A whole supply of deuces that spin harder than windmills
I been real, (yeah) always too clean cuz I pack heat
Or white leather guts, plush, bitch scream
that spin harder than windmills, I been real,(yeah) always too clean 'cause I Pack heat, or
White leather guts
Plush,bitch scream in da back seat
23's
supply of deuces that spin harder than windmills, I been real,(yeah) always too clean 'cause I Pack heat, or
White leather guts
Plush,bitch scream in da
Yo, I don't give a rats arse or rassclaat
Are your spars hard when your par par
Don't start are your bars hard
Have you mastered how to spar with
the capital
National
International
I be capital
I'm the GOAT for all
I ride the bitty like I'm Paul Wal'
Rational
Wild like animal
Bape like wild'n out
With no
a fuck, say you could run that shit back
And fuck your loud pack, and fuck your Snapchat
Cherry Bomb, the greatest fuckin' album since the days of sound
Got shit on my mind I'm thinking I bring the fye they come by n extinguish
All of the talent inside I feel gifted
Always pull up with the ice Early
.jpg "The Rat Pack")
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