Lyrics:
fronted
By one of my white friends
His stash in his night-stand
The way that I kick it
I gotta stop wearing white Vans
I’m Spanish, I’m life tan
Hate
ever
There's never been anybody like me. I'm Sonny Lister. I'm Jack Simpson
There's no one like me. I'm the man for it. There's no one that can match me
It's that time of year again
Y'all gon' be like, "Why this nigga startin' off like that?"
Disrespectful
Rap Up 2019
(Great John on the beat, by
the MARTA
Through the hood
Just tryin ta find that hookup
Now everyday we look up at the ceiling
Watchin ceiling fans go around tryin
Ta catch that feelin off
s, get busy (*drum roll*), aw
On the keys my man James, what you doin back there? (*piano plays*), aw yeah
So we about to do it a little somethin
that you somethin that you not
Boy big chillin while the work is payin off
Something like a sloth
Dro get delivered by drone to the door
Man I ain't got
to Sonny
Steady callin' me a dog, I ain't barked yet
Put her in the whip and had to give her ass the car test
Huh? Huh? What was that?
Imma lay his ass flat
more of them things to hold you down
Yeah, yo sonny, I'm well connected in the streets
We loyal to each other when it comes to that beef
We get down,
s, get busy (*drum roll*), aw
On the keys my man James, what you doin back there? (*piano plays*), aw yeah
So we about to do it a little somethin
settin' up
Button up, while I'm cuttin' up, never lettin' up
I don't link up, with suckers with raps that shrank
Thanks sonny, I'm takin' money
the discipline
Everywhere I go, I'm movin' militant
Dark outside, still I'm Sonny on the grind
Mailbox money, it's how I'm eatin' from the grind
Flat out buzzin',
the courtroom it's the trial of my brother James
He a comrade and 'cause that they gon' want him hanged
Threw James a pistol, put my rifle in the air
Said nobody
be trippin dont be doin no drive-bys
Cause we dont gangbang, dont wear blue or red
We like that fuckin green, papers what I said
Big Moe wassup, in
to you, I can pull up, Bugatti on you (skrr)
Yeah, that's a million a tie, four million for four
I record in the livin' room, swingin' the door
Movin
the '90s, I'm movin' a coast
You Westside or you Eastside
My code bigger than you and your post
These principles that we live by
These principles that we'd
back in motion
Cant get lost in thee emotions
Life movin like roller coasters
Keep uh hitta fa any commotion
I circle the block for that back end
I slide
Tom how I'm cruisin
Top Gun, shootin lyrical bullets
Only God can judge how I'm movin
People be hatin the fact I'm improvin it's scary to the point that
And yeah that's how we do it
The money it be movin' and the crew
When we movin' when we stop we still be movin'
Everything is a movie, Get the lights I be
movin just like the Young Bull ahh
That’s why they call me Young Bull like the 85’ Michael comin in the league where ain’t nobody like you and they all
lucky, you'll be in my sheets, ooh la
La uh, I can tell you be hypnotized by
My waist, my hips, my thighs and
Boy what you need to realize
That this ain't
smoke by the pound
Had my nigga Sonny break it down, yeah
Gallardo keep me sane, too much on my brain
Too much on my plate, I can't take a brake
Sayin'
taxes except
When we in traffic and tragic happens, that shit ain't no threat
You movin' backwards if you suggest that you sleep with a TEC
Go buy
Yeah
I'm after money that don't fold
With soldiers that don't fold
Chased by bitches with no soul
Hit them and let them go
I see the hate in your
get the dutch
Spics and niggaz collide but where our mental is aimed?
Doing drive-by's in rentals with James
Or whatever his nickname is 'cause when
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