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Comanche Ave Freestyle (feat. Big Drice) Video (MV)






Clay the Don - Comanche Ave Freestyle (feat. Big Drice) Lyrics




(Big Drice on the beat yea)
I got Clay the Don with me
"What Clay the Don of?"
The Don of having your bitch in her thong nigga
I just got paid 10 f*cking racks to talk shit over a beat
And to make the f*cking heat nigga
You niggas is still trynna go in on eighthies nigga
F*ck outta here
Like a nigga who said he was your day one we done switched it up all ready nigga
It's our f*cking world nigga

Look, I hate to break it to you but this life ain't what it seem
I had people say they gang now they on the other team
I know women after fame even know they living green
They gon' try to steal the shine I won't let them get a gleam
Nah, woah, I won't let em get a gleam
Could've swore that y'all was street, now y'all out here making memes
Trigger fingers Twitter fingers back to back OMG
Y'all ain't getting to the green you too worried bout the tea
How i'm whipping in the tints still city know it's me?
I just copped somebody girl, brought her back with no receipt
She said I can have it all, all I gotta say please
Damn, all i gotta say is please
Think her name was Indigo, got her number, was a Breeze
I guess i'm the Blueprint, I got girls from JAY to Z
They my angels, one named Halo, but instead I call her Bey
I might pull up with them all just to let a hater C

Damn Clay
What up doe?
That's how you feeling?
I'm just chilling, praise be to God

True Religion out of style but I still pray
Call me Big Don, but i'm still Clay
Heard you on a label, what yo deal say?
It's a three sixty, least yo bills paid
Look, I just want a pretty girl that won't lie to me
I just want my big bro to hit the lottery
I just want my dad's mom to retire now
I just want enough money to buy her house
But life ain't always simple as it should be
Or simple as it could be
You know how them people from the hood be
Hold each other down to keep them beneath
I pray that they tighten up and succeed
Yea, and it's still NOV from the South side
Summer twenty twenty two we outside

(For real) We stay outside you niggas gotta get permission to get off the porch
Not from your mom but from your homie (Yea)

My ex got a attitude for what though?
Pull up on her bestie like "what up doe?"
Sadly I ain't get a lot of luck though
Now I got her sister at the front door
She help let the love and the lust go
Yea, it's a cold game and it's cut throat
She been rubbing on me like some dove soap
Now her older brother wanna rumble
I might have to send him for a tumble
Show that boy he has to stay humble
Shhh! Be quiet, they be ease droppin'
I'll be getting money til a B poppin
You be hitting threes like you Steph Curry
I always keep a ten like i'm D. Rodman
Yea, like i'm D. Rod
And I hit em' up like i'm T Pac
Mo money mo problems word to Biggie Smalls
I'm still God's Son, o three Nas

Clay I don't know, I- I f-
I either wanna smack these niggas or count money
I might do both

Yea, yea woah, woah yea
I got one more left
Check, I say
It's Donnio NOV, I been the best since o three
How your bestie know me? Was posed to keep it lowkey
I love her even tho she, made on my mess on those sheets
She so F'n nosey, I call her smelly nose P
P stand for pretty girl that blesses little ole' me
And shows emotional support on even days I don't need
I swear to god I don't sleep, insomnia is O.P.
It's impossible to rest, like standing up with no feet
Those the days I don't eat
It got me poppin' out my soul like running backs in old cleats
I levitate a whole leap
I wrap a bar up in a web as if i'm Spidey-bro Pete
It sound like cardiac arrest the way I killed whole beat

Somebody get that f*cking beat a tuxedo man
I hope that motherf*cker got life insurance
Cause if not we gon have to treat it like we treat the rest of you niggas, get a fish fry going
You niggas is f*cking disgusting nigga
That nigga Clay just rapped on four f*cking beats nigga
In one f*cking song nigga , we just did an EP in one f*cking song nigga
You niggas could never f*cking compete
You niggas always hit DM's like "let's work nigga", for what?
You niggas is f*cking garbage
I wouldn't even give you a beat that I made in twenty f*cking thirteen off the beat machine nigga
Who the f*ck you think you niggas is?
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.


We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.




(Big Drice on the beat yea)
I got Clay the Don with me
"What Clay the Don of?"
The Don of having your bitch in her thong nigga
I just got paid 10 f*cking racks to talk shit over a beat
And to make the f*cking heat nigga
You niggas is still trynna go in on eighthies nigga
F*ck outta here
Like a nigga who said he was your day one we done switched it up all ready nigga
It's our f*cking world nigga

Look, I hate to break it to you but this life ain't what it seem
I had people say they gang now they on the other team
I know women after fame even know they living green
They gon' try to steal the shine I won't let them get a gleam
Nah, woah, I won't let em get a gleam
Could've swore that y'all was street, now y'all out here making memes
Trigger fingers Twitter fingers back to back OMG
Y'all ain't getting to the green you too worried bout the tea
How i'm whipping in the tints still city know it's me?
I just copped somebody girl, brought her back with no receipt
She said I can have it all, all I gotta say please
Damn, all i gotta say is please
Think her name was Indigo, got her number, was a Breeze
I guess i'm the Blueprint, I got girls from JAY to Z
They my angels, one named Halo, but instead I call her Bey
I might pull up with them all just to let a hater C

Damn Clay
What up doe?
That's how you feeling?
I'm just chilling, praise be to God

True Religion out of style but I still pray
Call me Big Don, but i'm still Clay
Heard you on a label, what yo deal say?
It's a three sixty, least yo bills paid
Look, I just want a pretty girl that won't lie to me
I just want my big bro to hit the lottery
I just want my dad's mom to retire now
I just want enough money to buy her house
But life ain't always simple as it should be
Or simple as it could be
You know how them people from the hood be
Hold each other down to keep them beneath
I pray that they tighten up and succeed
Yea, and it's still NOV from the South side
Summer twenty twenty two we outside

(For real) We stay outside you niggas gotta get permission to get off the porch
Not from your mom but from your homie (Yea)

My ex got a attitude for what though?
Pull up on her bestie like "what up doe?"
Sadly I ain't get a lot of luck though
Now I got her sister at the front door
She help let the love and the lust go
Yea, it's a cold game and it's cut throat
She been rubbing on me like some dove soap
Now her older brother wanna rumble
I might have to send him for a tumble
Show that boy he has to stay humble
Shhh! Be quiet, they be ease droppin'
I'll be getting money til a B poppin
You be hitting threes like you Steph Curry
I always keep a ten like i'm D. Rodman
Yea, like i'm D. Rod
And I hit em' up like i'm T Pac
Mo money mo problems word to Biggie Smalls
I'm still God's Son, o three Nas

Clay I don't know, I- I f-
I either wanna smack these niggas or count money
I might do both

Yea, yea woah, woah yea
I got one more left
Check, I say
It's Donnio NOV, I been the best since o three
How your bestie know me? Was posed to keep it lowkey
I love her even tho she, made on my mess on those sheets
She so F'n nosey, I call her smelly nose P
P stand for pretty girl that blesses little ole' me
And shows emotional support on even days I don't need
I swear to god I don't sleep, insomnia is O.P.
It's impossible to rest, like standing up with no feet
Those the days I don't eat
It got me poppin' out my soul like running backs in old cleats
I levitate a whole leap
I wrap a bar up in a web as if i'm Spidey-bro Pete
It sound like cardiac arrest the way I killed whole beat

Somebody get that f*cking beat a tuxedo man
I hope that motherf*cker got life insurance
Cause if not we gon have to treat it like we treat the rest of you niggas, get a fish fry going
You niggas is f*cking disgusting nigga
That nigga Clay just rapped on four f*cking beats nigga
In one f*cking song nigga , we just did an EP in one f*cking song nigga
You niggas could never f*cking compete
You niggas always hit DM's like "let's work nigga", for what?
You niggas is f*cking garbage
I wouldn't even give you a beat that I made in twenty f*cking thirteen off the beat machine nigga
Who the f*ck you think you niggas is?
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: ClaDonta' Hall, Edrice Poole
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

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