Before we get outta here, I got this track I want ya'll to wreck on
Gimme six lines, six lines is all I need
Alright, ok, I write in the light of day and in the night for pay, nigga
You my main mother fucker right?
You duck and hide when Pep Love touch a mic
Out the back door
If you ain't got that dough
I'll click-clack-blow and kick down doors
I roll backwood trees with that emerald green when i'm on scene
Chillin' with my nigga, roll, gettin' blow
Chillin' with ladies with the pretty eyes and straight teeth
Sittin in my ride playing make-believe like, that's my car, that's my girl
Imma go up to my house in the hills after I burn one
I write rhymes for the fun of it, but give me none of it or you'll be facing capital punishment
I'm a soldier of fortune, my style is extortion and I'm gorging more than a portion.
Take an excursion, oceanography odyssey that got me seeing 3D, you don't wanna see me
Not for one second, not for one bar on one record
You think you hard, then come stepping
I'll turn a threat into a confession, i'll turn a mic into a blunt weapon
Make you forget what you were once stressing
I'm a bass drum beat, a mad high hatter
Ensnare the snare with this here, choke the life out it
Invited and vitalize it, prop it up proper so you guys can idolize it
I'm not at all surprised that you modeled after my shit
The mastermind is ahead of whatever the times is
Ya'll niggas saps, maple leaves, all your raps are make-believe
I get an eigth and breath, like i'm Toni Braxton, give your homie action
You're gettin no reaction, slow your roll, I'm packin
Lean down when I get up, your style is put up, your turn to burn it up
You're borin, I'll suffocate you while you snorin, kill em' softly like Lauren
You're spillin, I'm pourin, innadequately hydrated, it's live ain't it
Fuck with me, get stuck with cutlery, luxery, I'm livin' luckily
Music is my sanctuary, it's life
Writer(s): Pallo Peacock, Jonathan Owens, Goapele Mohlabane, Teren Jones, Damian Siguenza
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com