Song parody of
01:40
by Quiet Swami
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Uh
I ain't wanna snap on it
Knew I had to rap on it
'For somebody trap on it
Gotta put the mac on em
BLOW
Clap once I clap back on em
Hit em like buttcheeks
You know that I smack on em
Niggas think it's soft till they memory come back on em
Nah I ain't a killa but these fists put some cracks on em
He got a gat on his lap
Homie put that shit down
When we fight we go back
Homie no jumpin in
We don't want non of that
Homie Greasers and Socs
Yeah we takin it back
Pony Boy I'll put yo ass on a map
Whatcha momma said boy i'll take that shit back
I'm throwin elbows, Jon Jones, think it's time to introduce ya brain to ya nosebone
Spectators, no ring, boy I still go home
I beat my meat cuz I ain't gettin no dome
Fall asleep wake up, and I don't even check my phone.
Start writin' instrumentals or incidentals
Grab the pen cuz my mind in a kennel
Really started goin down the drain when i got
Caught in a rental
Got arrested for some weed and it fucked with my mental
I took the charge for my homie and he ended up colder than winter
On some January shit
Icier than december
Like if Dropp don't fuck witchu then Swami gon' end ya
Same with Guey, Maz, King, Squad over whoever
Memories right now, they too hard to handle
So I smoke a bunch of weed and try not to remember
Photography is a hobby gotta get a new camera
Get a DLSR clear my account like a sample
Might start recordin flicks just to see if i'm ample
I can follow road maps or I can lead by example
I don't need to make a wish or blow on a dandi-
Lion! UH-UH I'll never stop tryin
Even if my goal ain't clear I ain't lyin
Walk into a situation high chance of dyin
Come out the other side my bank account high end
Seen a bunch of scary dudes comin round spyin
Left em all in the dust you know my car flyin
If it weren't for cops I'd fuckin love drivin
Uh
I ain't wanna snap on it
Knew I had to rap on it
'For somebody trap on it
Gotta put the mac on em
BLOW
Clap once I clap back on em
Hit em like buttcheeks
You know that I smack on em
Niggas think it's soft till they memory come back on em
Nah I ain't a killa but these fists put some cracks on em
He got a gat on his lap
Homie put that shit down
When we fight we go back
Homie no jumpin in
We don't want non of that
Homie Greasers and Socs
Yeah we takin it back
Pony Boy I'll put yo ass on a map
Whatcha momma said boy i'll take that shit back
I'm throwin elbows, Jon Jones, think it's time to introduce ya brain to ya nosebone
Spectators, no ring, boy I still go home
I beat my meat cuz I ain't gettin no dome
Fall asleep wake up, and I don't even check my phone.
Start writin' instrumentals or incidentals
Grab the pen cuz my mind in a kennel
Really started goin down the drain when i got
Caught in a rental
Got arrested for some weed and it fucked with my mental
I took the charge for my homie and he ended up colder than winter
On some January shit
Icier than december
Like if Dropp don't fuck witchu then Swami gon' end ya
Same with Guey, Maz, King, Squad over whoever
Memories right now, they too hard to handle
So I smoke a bunch of weed and try not to remember
Photography is a hobby gotta get a new camera
Get a DLSR clear my account like a sample
Might start recordin flicks just to see if i'm ample
I can follow road maps or I can lead by example
I don't need to make a wish or blow on a dandi-
Lion! UH-UH I'll never stop tryin
Even if my goal ain't clear I ain't lyin
Walk into a situation high chance of dyin
Come out the other side my bank account high end
Seen a bunch of scary dudes comin round spyin
Left em all in the dust you know my car flyin
If it weren't for cops I'd fuckin love drivin
