Lyrics:
From the tips of my fingers and under my skin
Stop holding back and pull me in
Entwine 'round my bones, silence is deafening
Stop holding back
up
Fuck with me
Snap my fingers
Turn to dust
Gotta love for Mary Jane
Like I'm Spider-Man
Flyin by dropping bombs
Like green goblin
Come at ya in
playin' fore the clip spray 'em
And have his ass M.I.A. like Nick Saban
His whole shit caved in my whole clique cave men
Hardbody nigga my whole shit
on the floor and make it "Breathe and Stop"
like Q-Tip - get in her ear and I bet she get in my drop
[Chorus]
[Chop] We them southside riders
[Fred]
me Steve cause I got the diamond pick
Bitch I got the drip
Iced out on my fit she pullin' up and suckin' dick
Ain't gotta leave a tip
Bitch
I don’t care but I’m actually dying a bit
I really don’t care but I can’t help but crying and shit
And I’m shaking, I can’t feel my finger tips
I
Ohh nananana
Ohh nananana
Focusing on my self
That’s what’s on face
Hiding in plain sight
Cupid shoot my head
Lost so many good ones, just by bad intent
spray (hoo-ahhhh) duck leaves my trigger finger
DIGITAL
My gun'll make, many men, things you did when I get mad
and pissed cause I can make him my
And for my downfall, the just lay await
Imma tip the scale like I lay a weight
Nigga fuck you cause my paper straight
No sneak diss but I sneak spliffs
So
Yea
Standing on top of a triple beam
Sometimes tip the scale
Just to keep the balance
But I ain't mean no malice
Got love in my heart
You just gotta
Or give you fourteen from the bengal Andy Dalton
If you ain't feeling this two fingers Steve Austin
I know niggas got shit to say so keep talking
I got
One man, honcho truck load, ammo
All black, suit and tie, don't move in camo
Gloves on, no Evie
Trigger finger forever ready
One man, one machete
Out
an icicle?
At five I was hit by a car ridin my tricycle, a hit and run son
Mad young in the hospital receivin stitches made me vicious
Peeping cretons with
behind
Never gravy at the bank but I pulled up in a tank
Get off my tip, ain’t a blue flick
PHI don’t respond if it ain’t no chips
I don’t preach violence
Yo
(It's Treyvion) Yo
Yo
Said
Tip-off, run it, feeling gigantic
Tumbo with the finger but I'm standing on a mansion
Retros too hot, they bout
to make it so quick, now
Ball game call it
Taking the dub from the tip-off
Yeah, I'm that super nigga y'all been waiting for
You see me fly by with my cape
the crowd
Then we catching us a body backstage
Damn bitch can I have space
Like my fingers tapping on backspace
My mental, in a bad
Place niggas milking
a slave
Because the things you're living for can't go to your grave
Two fingers in the air for heavy D, Steve Jobs, and Gill Scott rest in peace
These
the revolution will not be televised
The revolution will not be televised
The revolution will not be brought
To you by Xerox
In 4 parts without commercial
some fairies
You Uncle Tom and I'm all Jerry Springer never linger
Direct shots with the tip of my finger
Never know where I am or where I'm going
Never
only fan
Please do not pass me no xans
She wanna top inside the mall
She like to fuck when she can
Pay for the uber and then give her my tip
She suck
playin' fore the clip spray 'em
And have his ass M.I.A. like Nick Saban
His whole shit caved in my whole clique cave men
Hardbody nigga my whole shit
a bag, he
Gon' pull up with no mask, huh
Drip from my head to my pants
No we not takin' no task, huh
The thirty, that's right by my finger, can
Shoot, we
So now I'm on my tip
Toes walking tightropes
Haven't fallen yet
I know I'm quite close
I'm holding on for dear
Life when we fight
Then you remind me
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