Lyrics:
no ceiling man
Make the motherfuckers watch me like showtime
Johnny Depp, cinemax, bitch it's blow time
Nigga guess what I'm is, bank teller
You
didn't care
Hands in her pockets
I heard she used to kick it
Down by the river bed
She used to date an old man
That lived out in a shed
I heard he had
I-I-I-I-I-I see some hoes'
In here
Ayo' TrackBoyz,
It's cool if I bring my other cats
From St. Louis on this one?
Come on.
Girl as you came
Yeah, yeah, what the deal Dog?
Where you from?, BK, NYC, reppin' wid the DPG
Yeah, what the dealy, yo, yo, yo, yo, LAFC
Everything else cool
or somewhere in lock up
Where somebody will break em off something proper
These youngsters think that I'm so cool
They wanna learn the game from an old
the phone up nigga gotta send that text
I'm never bothered by you bitches man you hoes no threat
I'm the flyest out the fleet and I'm not on no jet
If I put
body parts
Can't fix ya soul
Get a extra high
When you toot ya nose
Sundress look good
But it's deeper than clothes
Came from concrete
Gave her D then I
on ya
What you on like kool and the gang
We can get on
By myself as I look around
They love you when you up
But when you down
They won't make a sound
I'm
play pool play by the pool
Ten tan babes drool while I lay by the
Ooh man, just working on my skin tone
What the fuck you expect
From the butterscotch
this weed and get rowdy Like it's a Donald Trump rall y
Man fuck 100 cuz I feel like a thowy
Lets go to Maui and kick it with Johnny Tsunami some mommies
Justin, Johnny, Naomi, Seann, Kieran
Man, am I finished? Nope, damn it I still got Uma, Josh, Jason
Stephen and Jimmy, Greg, Bob and the other ones, fuck,
If you're not having any luck with the girls
You need to step into the spotlight world
Watch some movies with Steve McQueen
Get some music by BB King
of rocks, courtesy of Johnny
I roll a couple blunts, and load up the Tommy
Ready to get my stunt on, my pockets on swoll
Now all I gotta do, is see which car
A hundred karats worth of rocks, courtesy of Johnny
I roll a couple blunts, and load up the Tommy
Ready to get my stunt on, my pockets on swoll
Now all I
'em
Now your caged no more riding to the rhythm
Johnny blaze man on fire how he get 'em
Satan only drop you if you let 'em
Cannon to his dome bruh watch
Dizzy Gillespie is presented by Don Sebesky
I be cranking mad jack, got mad stacks of cool-out
You know we pull the smoke tool out
I give props
nobody ever told me bout this
Man ain't no way this FDA approved
When I bought it from that Ju Stoe right there by the zoo with no prescription now we
Young Ric Flair when I walk I drip
Cup look dirty every time I sip
Fatigues lil bitch camouflage my whip
"The World is Yours Lil Cope" on the blimp
Cool
by the ooh man, just working on my skin tone
The fuck you expect from the butterscotch boss when I floss,
Rap game Randy Moss in the cotton candy Buick
canteloupe little old maid
A big black berry inside the cool-aid
A bass guitar a old fruit jar
A green canteen and a chocolate bar
Cannonball baby doll
for Johnny Mac X or yourself to seem cool
Just to have a way so you can show that you're depressed through
Hey I've been tryna get up but I just keep
your mouth wide, eyes looking all cross eyed
Sitting low on buck hide, steering wheel on the right side
Don't high side when I pass by, toots my horn
got my own picture, gotta paint
At the school, being cool, them the ones really fake
Everything they say bull, but I don’t wanna hate
If I mess up shit,
Produced with a groupie
Direct me a film
High class 4k hd tv
Cuz lil bitch you not one of them
Then pass on you hoe cuz im cool
Lil bitch you are not one
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