Lyrics:
schöne Zeit
Sean Paul still in love with you du weißt
Doch die Straße will Coco... Bye bye
Baby Girl mach slowmow
Baby zieh dich aus vor der gopro
Glaub
ain't with that cool shit, I'm with that ra-ra
JAY-Z wouldn't battle Nas if Nas killed Ty Ty (he wouldn't)
Pookie rollin' over in his grave, you got him
yeah, I hope folk money what I work fo'
Paul and Juicy sent me gotta put you in the dirt bro
Comin' with the pistols is easy we can get you guys
(ayo)
You can not retire me (yeah)
I keeps it real in the field, Navy seal on the drill
Never stingy with my bills, plenty gravy I spilled
Recorded
doing time up in rivers when he came home
Now I'm waiting on a nigga for the get out of line
No drive by we jump out and dump where you grind
Excuse me
the page
I pull 7 digits clean - soon as I grace the stage
I done caught up with the paper; y'all chasin change
Man I'm runnin' up Broad Street, in
now
If you think that love isn't
Found on the radio
Then tune right in you made
Find the love you lost
'Cause now I'm sittin here with the
Man I sent
fronting see
The thirst in y'all
Think it's fucked up now
It get worse for y'all
Assassinate your best friend now
A hearse you call
Run up on your block with
him with the other six, that's seven man
Give me a medal man, Devilman, sekkle man
You'll get eaten
In a lyrical war I can't get beaten
'Cause my lyrics
and I'm not talking baseball
I'm stepping right, you gone get left up with that Dame, Paul
A hit or miss for me to blow waiting on fame call
Must be my
lifted
My life crazy, ain't scripted, I can't e'en hang with you niggas
They vision tainted and brittle, I'm bout as crazy as cryptic
I get on, mufuckas
it, toss it like salad
Not Sean Paul, not 21 Savage
Like scroungy, Harry Belafonte
Pretty with no ass like Ariana Grande
I love it when my niggas
money, iced out, like I'm in a video
(Still breaking boys off, hmm) Candy painted with the gloss
You can hate but that's the way a player floss
(Still
to the dome
19 in the game, only love for my Lac
Never loving a dame, swang to the left
When I'm hulling the frame
Trying to take mine
You'll be hugging a stain
man, I'm high like a kite
Still I can roll a spliff
With mi eyes shut tight
Pretty girl, she said I'm on point
She like what me like and she love my type
it ta' poppin' ma, its a little before 1
And I'm yellin' out hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, yo
I can tell by the ring in the middle of your tongue
You
and now I'm ridin on the radio
Your ass ain't no DJ, my advise stop playin me fore
[Verse 2: Smoke]
I'm ridin in my drop cut, these 24 inch not scrubbin
In
radio stations say
They not going to play my music
Uh well I'm going to sell it on the streets
In the boot of my car man
A brother has got get to get
on Worldstar, plus I'm Worldstar
You might have seen me once before
In ya girl car
Drumma Boy the name, but I go by D-Boy
Fresh nigga never known to miss a beat
names that end in -aceae
I'm a bio prof, that's the side that you all see
But I still can be that hoe, where's them recent divorcees?
I could be your mom,
Thirty-seven-twenty-five-twenty-six
Now she thirty-seven with twenty-five kids
You know what I'm saying?
Now she on the come up
Trying to get a baller nigga
Bitch heard my song
of the above
Oriental rugs and I'm flier than a dove
You could show me love, or you can get lost
Four-story houses, I recline on Prada couch
Shark grill in
when we go eat she Beyonce and I'm Sean Carter,
If I worked at burger king and approached you smelling like onion rings would she do half the things she
where y’all at
When it comes to this music I just want you feigning
And I’ll take a little cash
Been about 10 years and I’m still riding with this music
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