Lyrics:
split
Punk, pass the forty and the blunt and don't front
On the block, 'cause when you do front, brothers are gettin' stomped
I'm not an addict, more
Runnin up da racks then blow it
Mixing Rick Owens with Tom ford
In the kitchen beating dope like Floyd
These niggas ain't making no noise yeh
Nigga having
up on the block
Talkin' shit drinkin' "crooked eye"
I got the fat head rush from the chocolate thai
I'm feelin' good I want to kick it and hang out
nobody top that shit
And unless you the girl I'm fuckin'
Then you don't really need to be owned by a bitch like that umm
Like that huh
Take a second,
you nigga,
I got the 40/40 made by two jiggas,
I make you "Holla, Holla", I Ja Rule niggas!
The lion's in the room, what up Fat Joe?
I'm Curtis'
gon beat her ass on sight
Byllz
Ain’t dat right?
I’m been doin bad
Real bad
Now I’m comin up
Niggaz talkin bad
Oh yeah
Bitch I’m runnin up
40 on my hip
stepped into the Hall of Fame and put my frame on the wall
I'm like a Michelangelo painting that hangs in the vault
They gated me off, by Hendrix while he
over my vans
I got merch for all of yo' fans
With the Glock feel like John Wick
On your grave where I'm taking my piss
Wanna play now you're in
Swear on me
On me N my 40
I'm not losin no more bruddas
You can't call me Tom
No I'm go kill that rat
You can't call me Tom
Know I'm go kill that rat
I'm
stomach fat
I couldn't see your ass goin' to Heaven
So I'm asking for a pass to go to Hell
So I can whip your fucking ass
I hate that I'll never get
Bob Shane/Tom Drake/Miriam Stafford
Chorus:
Run Molly, run (oh, Molly). Run Molly, run. Long John's gonna beat you, beneath the shinin' sun.
Long
Don't feel no pain when I'm with you, said I feel so numb
Was raised by the pops, yeah I'm a son of a gun
Hitting heads and spinning blocks jus for
Tom Cruise
On the impossible mission (Gang)
Big Draco, FlightReacts in the Hellcat
Amiri denim (Brrrt)
She look at my chain
That's a chain reaction
I'm
enough fellas to be you, nigga
I got the 40/40 made by two jiggas
I make you Holla, Holla, I Ja Rule niggas
The lion's in the room, waddup Fat Joe?
I'm
even if I don't perform this
By 19, I was supposed to BE the forbes list
I'm a sex addict
Me and my kinfolk
Try to refrain
I ain't tryna turn
pussy I'm on me a chase
He got hit with that, he fell on his shit
He got hit with that, he scream like a bitch
He got hit with that, he broke through
Fat Freddy's fingers so lazily linger on the ebony and ivory keys
Seduced by a logic fuelled by the darkest liquid made from the sea
Warm it would
you got work
35 for the key of the purp
Now six figures for this fat niggas verse
All eyes on me as I'm
Walking through the church
Prayin' lord forgive
on tour?"
Told her I'mma get a suite by 40 deuce
Don't worry 'bout it, I'mma send the car to you
She said, "Dolla, I got friends for your man"
"I ain't
rocks bein' sold, then motherfucker
If you live to see 40, then you old
An' me bein' the way I am, if the Devil close to me
That's the reason why I'm
Stingy like Mr krabs when it
Comes down to my sauce
Got chased by a fat mall cop
He look like Rick Ross
Like I'm hooping with this nigga
Hit him with
Give that"
"Yeah"
"Roll another big fat, Hit that, Give that"
"Said I wake up, Bake up, Lace up"
(Whoo)
"Stoned by 9AM, now I done fucked around
for my forty acres and a blunt to blaze
Biblical times, good hearts with militant minds
For black cotton, I'm hoppin' over enemy lines
For black
everybody else gonna feel it
Yeah
See I got the trap boomin'
I feel like the fat Gucci
Look I jump on this beat then I hit like I'm Zab Judah
See I bob and I
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