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Isaiah Rashad - The House Is Burning Album Lyrics



Isaiah Rashad - The House Is Burning Lyrics






Darkseid

Yeah, yeah, yeah

What am I supposed outside but get rich?
Work too hard, but boy, don't floss too hard and get your wig split
Pray to God, I heard they got new Gods outside in this bitch
Barely toddlers got them Purple Hearts outside in this bitch

Yeah, whatever gon' keep your nose dry, my nigga, I'm with it (yeah)
I know it got you froze, my nigga, I feel it (yeah)
Some niggas be runnin' away from life, some niggas cut off the legs
If I was you, I'd be dead
Yeah, whatever gon' keep your mind blown, my nigga, maintain the wheel
My partner know I just came back, see, I done been dead for real
They mixin' up all of that no name, you know we be scared to chill
You know we be scared to feel, or anything else but, yeah
Whatever gon' keep my kids safe, my kids full, I'm with it (yeah)
I know what's at your nose, my nigga, for really (ayy)
Some niggas gon' die in the cardboard, some niggas gon' die in the feds (ayy)
Is that you on the edge?
Whatever was under the bunk bed, I ain't scared, I'm ready
They locked the horns with matadors, okay, don't get too heavy
He shined his fangs and cuban chain, okay, don't get too heavy
They dug a grave, he came alive, okay, don't get too heavy

What am I supposed outside but get rich?
Work too hard, but boy, don't floss too hard and get your wig split
Pray to God, I heard they got new Gods outside in this bitch
Barely toddlers got them Purple Hearts outside in this bitch
What am I supposed outside but get rich?
Work too hard, but boy, don't floss too hard and get your wig split
Pray to God, I heard they got new Gods outside in this bitch
Barely toddlers got them Purple Hearts outside in this bitch

Whatever gon' keep my kids safe, my kids full, I'm with it
I know what's at your nose, my nigga, for really
Some niggas gon' die in the cardboard, some niggas gon' die in the feds
Whatever gon' keep my kids safe, my kids full, I'm with it
I know what's at your nose, my nigga, for really
Some niggas gon' die in the cardboard, some niggas gon' die in the feds
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Isaiah McClain
Copyright: Lyrics © Royalty Network, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.






From the Garden

Came out bustin', came out puffin', came out f*ckin' on your cousin
I do all these floozies worser than they daddy, but you love her
You in trouble, I'm lil' Sunny, I'm gon' barbecue or somethin'
That's yo' Benzy? It ain't shit, I went shoppin', left it runnin'
Check my hunnids, check my onion, we watch cable at my auntie's
'Cause my papa wasn't trappin', but my uncle up to somethin'
Mister magic Billy Batson, mister magic Billy Batson
Miss me with that loco, hatin' on a nigga, get it crackin'
I'm not surprised, I'm on the rise, been on the ride, wet as my eyes
Spare me the lie, just hold it down, all I require, just hold it down
They gon' shit talk you when we aren't around
Niggas be hatin' with feet on the ground
Got that lil' jet with a beat on the couch
Nut on her coochie and beat on her mouth, wow

Came out bustin', came out bustin'
Came out bustin', came out bustin'
Came out bustin', came out bustin'
Came out bustin', came out bustin' (came out bustin')
Came out bustin' (hold on), came out bustin' (wait)
Came out bustin' (hold on), came out bustin' (wait)
Came out bustin' (hold on), came out bustin' (wait)
Came out bustin' (hold on), came out bustin' (wait, uh)

Chanel on my feet (yeah), yeah, that's fur on my C's (yeah, cuz)
I be f*ckin' with the B's (blatt), like Muhammad Ali (woah)
Dip her, uppercut this thing (huh?)
Got yo' bitch on the edge of her seat (ayy)
She on the ecstasy, I'm on the bean (what?)
Swear on the ecstasy, edge of my V (skrrt)
And usually, I like repetitive beat (yes)
I like the way that she move on my meat (okay)
All of these bitches, they look good to me (yeah)
But I f*ck the same girl 'cause I don't even cheat (shh)
That is a lie, I'm repetitive freak (hahaha)
I don't even look, nah, I don't even seek (uh-uh)
I don't even peek, G5, G5, repetitive G (ayy)
I'm tryna get all the muhf*ckin' cheese (ayy)
Bitch, I'ma boss, I'm wherever you be (yeah)
I've been on tour, I've seen more (leak)
I told these muhf*ckers, "Feed me beats"
Just like my music, your bitch, she gon' leak

Came out bustin', came out bustin'
Came out bustin', came out bustin'
Came out bustin', came out bustin'
Came out bustin', came out bustin'
Came out bustin', came out bustin'
Came out bustin', came out bustin'
Came out bustin', came out bustin'
Came out bustin', came out bustin'

I'm road runnin', I'm so cunnin', hi-tech digit, flat four button
Passport shawty, airport prolly, NASCAR, Audi, Swanton bomb it
Two white bitches, still gon' pick it, fly shit, kick it, still tote digit
Young like slizzy, get back witcha
Step back, hit 'em with the step back, swish it
Hatin' nigga hopin' that he melt my glisten
Shit might triple, shit might missile
Shit might hit you, free G Walker
That my crodie, that my nigga
I been stackin' for him, really
When he pull up, they gon' that that
He went platinum up in prison
I'm just floatin' on a river
Please be early, please be gorgeous
Please be with it, please be for it
Let me do donuts in your foreign
Let me play number eight while I do it
Let me control it, I can control it
Eat it with one hand, baby worth nothin'
Play with my zipper, play with my bubba
That was your sister, that was my summer

Came out bustin', came out bustin'
Came out bustin', came out bustin'
Came out bustin', came out bustin'
Came out bustin', came out bustin'

Came out bustin', came out bustin'
Came out bustin', came out bustin' (ayy, ayy, ayy, it's ya boy)
Came out bustin', came out bustin' (DJ Mister Lou, we here again)
Came out bustin', came out bustin' (another Saturday night)
Came out bustin', came out bustin' (at Mulberry Skate, man)
Came out bustin', came out bustin' (uh, make sure you make your way to the snack bar)
Came out bustin', came out bustin' (we got, uh, honey buns, uh)
Came out bustin', came out bustin'
Came out bustin', came out bustin' (hot chips and cheese, uh)
Came out bustin', came out bustin' (Kool-aid pickles, uh)
Came out bustin', came out bustin' (we got everything, just make sure you don't eat on the skate floor)
Came out bustin', came out bustin'
Came out bustin', came out bustin' (I repeat, do not eat on the stake floor)
Came out bustin', came out bustin' (we ain't got time to be slippin' on no cheese and chicken)
Came out bustin', came out bustin'
Came out bustin', came out bustin
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Isaiah McClain, Symere Woods
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.






RIP Young

Mane, you know what's goin', you got cheese, I got dope
For the nine hunnid strong, I got P's, I got coke
Mane, you know what's goin', you got cheese, I got dope
For the nine hunnid strong, I got P's, I got coke

We work to work, you late to work
I holla, then they send it
You know my plot was colder than Chicago in December
My bitch came up in Inglewood
Her mama was her daddy
And when I'm in the Midwest
She say holla at your family
My dog pass me that cup
Taste like candy, bitch
My dog out layin' down the law
Ain't breakin' no laws or serving out the rock
Southside still f*ckin' in the car
Still flippin' in the car, still shootin' out the car
Lil' hotbox smokin' our jar, now I'm f*ckin' on a star
Hold up, I got a call

Been sayin' that I'm a cool cat, f*ck that
Tellin' bitches I'm a Top Dawg, get shot
Roll the window, let the propane outside
Bunch of niggas doing donuts, yeah
Got the money in a headlock, big dog
Every time I hit the red lights, just shine
Ain't nothin' but a good day, don't die
They don't teach them how to pump fake, big shot

Ain't trippin', I don't wanna lose count
Talkin' my shit, it was just us, bitch
F*ck it, I'll drive, hop in my ride
Pass me that dutch, bitch
On the westside, on the one-ten
Swingin' my nuts (swingin' my nuts)
F*ck it, let's grill, f*ck it, let's spill
Spend a few crumbs (I spend a few)
Pop smoke, pop shit, pop bitch
Young nigga, don't pop too much
Spaceships, fake broke, Kany
Young nigga don't stay too long
Big truck, big wheel, big wop
Them niggas probably hate my guts
Tryna gain my trust
But it's all out of lust

Mane, you know what's goin', you got cheese, I got dope
For the nine hunnid strong, I got P's, I got coke
Mane, you know what's goin', you got cheese, I got dope
For the nine hunnid strong, I got P's, I got coke

Been sayin' that I'm a cool cat, f*ck that
Tellin' bitches I'm a Top Dawg, get shot
Roll the window, let the propane outside
Bunch of niggas doing donuts, yeah
Got the money in a headlock, big dog
Every time I hit the red lights, just shine
Ain't nothin' but a good day, don't die
They don't teach them how to pump fake, big shot
Been sayin' that I'm a cool cat, f*ck that
Tellin' bitches I'm a Top Dawg, get shot
Roll the window, let the propane outside
Bunch of niggas doing donuts, yeah
Got the money in a headlock, big dog
Every time I hit the red lights, just shine
Ain't nothin' but a good day, don't die
They don't teach them how to pump fake, big shot

I'm thugged out nigga, but I just seen a motherf*ckin' rainbow, nigga
I ain't that motherf*ckin' thugged out nigga, that shit beautiful than a motherf*cker
My baby mama probably at the end of that bitch with her gold diggin' ass, nigga
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Isaiah McClain, Paul Duane Beauregard, Kalon Berry, Jordan Houston, Patrick Houston
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.






Lay Wit Ya

Big wheel (as we also smoke the ink, mane)
Yeah, yeah (ri-ridin' in the Chevy as we also smoke the ink, mane)
Ayy, ayy (ri-ridin' in the Chevy as we also smoke the ink, mane)
Cole, you stupid (ridin' in the Chevy as we also smoke the ink, mane)
Bitch, yeah (ri-ridin' in the Chevy as we also smoke the ink, mane)
Ayy (ridin' in the Chevy as we also smoke the ink, mane)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (ri-ridin' in the Chevy as we also smoke the ink, mane)
Yeah, big wheels (ridin' in the Chevy as we also smoke the ink, mane)
(Ri-ridin' in the Chevy as we also smoke the ink, mane)

Big wheel got that motherf*ckers skatin' hard
Chill pill got me high but cannot lay with ya
Last year, you was my bitch, now you my baby girl
Last year, you was my bitch, now you my baby girl

I'm a cold piece of work (yeah)
Whippin' up to serve (yeah), what was for dessert? (Yeah)
I'm a Gucci Mane, you a Captain Kirk
I don't wanna flirt (yeah), tell me, what's the word? Pussy
Bitch, you know what's up (yeah), always on the cusp (yeah)
What's that in your cup? (Cup) Sippin' on dat (sippin' on dat)
Yeah, never in a rush (Rush), kickin' out the sluts (sluts)
I get off the bus (yeah), pussy

Big wheel got that motherf*ckers skatin' hard
Chill pill got me high but cannot lay with ya
Last year, you was my bitch, now you my baby girl
Last year, you was my bitch, now you my baby girl
Big wheel got that motherf*ckers skatin' hard
Chill pill got me high but cannot lay with ya (Ha-ha, bitch)
Last year, you was my bitch, now you my baby girl (What the f*ck?)
Last year, you was my bitch, now you my baby girl (ayy, ayy)

Triple up, triple, up, triple up, triple up, huh?
Triple up, triple, up, triple up, triple up, huh?
Triple up, triple, up, triple up, triple up, What the f*ck?
Triple up, triple, up, triple up, triple up, gang, gang

Triple up, big crunk is f*cked
Hype as f*ck, but don't stop the dose
Duke Deuce, your name hot as f*ck (huh?)
Ain't met one bitch who would not f*ck (huh? Would not f*ck)
Focus, f*ck that pistol tucked for pussy niggas actin' tough (brrt)
F*ck a Draco, keep that capital K for range, that's if you run
F*ckin' bitches, ain't no cuffin' bitches, stack them other niggas (yeah)
Tough decisions in this rappin' business, ain't no bein' friendly (yeah)
Old niggas turned to enemies, now I'm seein' plenty (seein')
Strictly business, they like "Duke, you're trippin'," bitch, I need a milli'
Plenty people used to sleep up on me, now I'm seekin' vengeance
Cold ice and cold heart, bitch, you know we strictly pimpin'
Tryna keep rappin', these niggas keep cappin'
The pussy-ass rappers keep f*ckin' with me (f*ckin' with me)
You're hustlin' backwards, I pull up in Raptor
I'm strapped with them triple, them brothers with me (ayy, ayy)
Triple up, triple, up, triple up, triple up (ayy, ayy)

Big wheel got that motherf*ckers skatin' hard (huh?)
Chill pill got me high but cannot lay with ya (huh?)
Last year, you was my bitch, now you my baby girl (What the f*ck?)
Last year, you was my bitch, now you my baby girl (yeah, yeah, yeah)
Big wheel got that motherf*ckers skatin' hard (huh?)
Chill pill got me high but cannot lay with ya (huh?)
Last year, you was my bitch, now you my baby girl (What the f*ck?)
Last year, you was my bitch, now you my baby girl (yeah, yeah, yeah)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Isaiah McClain, Jordan Houston, J. Johnson, l. Johnson, Paul Beauregard, Patavious Isom
Copyright: Lyrics © Wixen Music Publishing, BMG Rights Management, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Hipgnosis Songs Group






Claymore

Is you runnin' or exercisin', baby? (Yeah)
Keep it one, one
Claymore this way, it's almost like control
Claymore this way
Is you runnin' or exercisin', baby? (Yeah)
Keep it one, one
Claymore this way, it's almost like control
Claymore this way

Yeah
Let me call up Isha to come over here
Keisha, we about to get so cold, yeah
Let me call up Peaches, that's my other real
Keisha, we about to get cold
Do-do you wanna play in the backseat? Pardon my break
Do you wanna live in the fast lane? Shawty, I might (might)
Lo-lo-losin' my, losin' my, losin' myself, I'm high (I'm high)
Cr-cr-cruisin' now, cruisin' now, crush it up, crush it up, nice (nice)
Cr-crush it up, crush it up, crush it up, crush it up
Crush it up nice (crush it nice)
Break it down, break it down, pick it up, pick it up, pick up a price
Lo-lo-losin' my, losin' my, losin' myself, I'm high, yeah
You-you can't control yourself (control yourself)
over the bag, over the bag, you done destroyed yourself, ayy

Is you runnin' or exercisin', baby? (Yeah)
Keep it one, one
Claymore this way, it's almost like control
Claymore this way
Is you runnin' or exercisin', baby? (Yeah)
Keep it one, one
Claymore this way, it's almost like control
Claymore this way

Yeah, they be like Tisha, can we take this easy?
Can we take this easy? Ain't no deep dives
Tryna find no reason, why it gotta be two lives
Be three live, every time I see you, every time I need you
Got a bag for the low and you scared to dip (baby)

Everything, everything, everything
Get a lil' better when it's a little louder, oh
On the low, I'ma be pullin' up on your side
Black Uber, they know my car (ooh, ooh, ooh)
Lookin' at me like "Hey Mista"
Tank, four doors on the telescope
Heard you been runnin' with the lames, I know
Only go live on Periscope
You don't know everything, literally
Get a lil' better when you speak loud and clear
See everything that you got inferred
That energy not allowed this year
That little league mindset out of here
Smokin' OG, baby
Why you playin' hard ball?
I'm just tryna ball hard with you, lil' baby

Is you runnin' or exercisin', baby? (Is you runnin'?)
Keep it one, one (keep it one)
Claymore this way, it's almost like control (ooh)
Claymore this way (do, do, do-do)
Is you runnin' or exercisin', baby?
Keep it one, one
Claymore this way, it's almost like control
Claymore this way
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Isaiah McClain, Christopher Jr. Smith
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.






Headshots (4r Da Locals)

Ayy, can you come to Harry's after you done? (Yeah)
A'ight, for sure, I got a jam
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Don't step on your toes (bitch)
Ah, ah yeah (Cole, you stupid)
Ah-ah, ah, ah yeah
Ah, ah, ah, yeah (yeah)
Uh-uh, uh-uh, uh-uh
Uh-uh, uh-uh, yeah (motherf*cker)

Okay, you caught me by surprise in my brand new whip, baby
Peep me in the scope, if I'm gone, don't trip, baby
Bringin' back the strong, up to bat, all hits, baby
(It's cool, lil' bitch, you're mine, yeah) yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah

Who want a shot, wanna die? (Yeah, yeah)
Lemme know, I got two on the hip and knot, no diggity
Zay, you smooth like a R&B song
How you keep them hoes off you? Man, they killin' me
Numero uno, might kick shit like Judo, Judo
Givin' out hoes, not kudos, kudos
Pocket fat like Juno, you know (yeah)
Yeah, I tell her, "bitch, eat it like Doja Cat"
You see the wrist whippin' like Bouldercrest (yeah)
I got a crib bigger than Budapest (yeah)
And the shots ain't bringin' my soldier back (yeah)
From the noose to the drop, and the 'Wop, no diggity
New to the top and I rock new Tiffany's
Zay, you smooth like an R&B song
How you keep them hoes off you? Man, they killin' me (yeah)

Okay, you caught me by surprise in my brand new whip, baby
Peep me in the scope, if I'm gone, don't trip, baby
Bringin' back the strong, up to bat, all hits, baby

Okay, you caught me by surprise in my brand new whip, baby
Peep me in the scope, if I'm gone, don't trip, baby
Bringin' back the strong, up to bat, all hits, baby
Yeah, yeah, yeah

It feel good since a nigga been back
But a nigga done changed, changed, changed, changed, changed
Weed couldn't settle my fire
Couldn't cover my pain, pain, pain, pain, pain (ah, yeah)
Lane, lane, lane, lane, lane
Swang, swang, swang, swang, swang
Yeah, yeah (ah yeah, ah yeah, ah yeah)
I see God when I be ridin' out
Boy, you always ridin' 'round with a target on
If a nigga follow me to the car garage, I'ma spark it up
That's a Mack with a MAC in a Tonka trunk
Like my uncle son, got some thump in here
Like a trumpet, huh, when it's crunk in here
When it's dump in here, I'ma spark it up (o-o-Okay)

So, say what's on your mind
(Okay, you caught me by surprise in my brand new whip, baby)
What's got you fired up?
Tell me what you want
(Peep me in the scope, if I'm gone, don't trip, baby)
I'm in the water
And I'm drowning, babe
(Bringin' back the strong, up to bat, all hits, baby)
Can you hold me down?
Yeah, yeah (ah yeah, ah yeah, ah yeah)

Okay, you caught me by surprise in my brand new whip, baby (ah yeah)
Peep me in the scope, if I'm gone, don't trip, baby (ah yeah)
Bringin' back the strong, up to bat, all hits, baby
(Yeah, yeah, bring it back)

Okay, you caught me by surprise in my brand new whip, baby (ah, ah, yeah)
Peep me in the scope, if I'm gone, don't trip, baby (ah, ah, yeah)
Bringin' back the strong, up to bat, all hits, baby

Ah, ah yeah
Ah, ah, ah
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Isaiah McClain, Kameron Cole, Piero Picciono
Copyright: Lyrics © CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC






All Herb

F*ck it, I'ma get it off my chest though
Made a nigga perfect for his next ho

F*ck it, I'ma get it off my chest though
Made a nigga perfect for his next ho
Knew you would tryna bait me like a set
If I give ten percent, I'ma need it back tenfold

Screamin' at home, and no phones, we all hurtin'
Freakin' ya soul, like the pack, we all herb
Pay me to feel, what the f*ck, we all need ya
Mixin' the feel with the facts, we all hurt
Play in the dirt, we are at the sunseeker
If I'ma die, make it big, we all hurtin'
Tell me it's real, like the front, we all need ya
Lay in the field, burn it down, we all herb

And if you dead, tell me somethin'
Like, what's ya life and how you livin'?
Did you slide it, did you build it?
Did you find it, did you grab it, did you ride it?
Like on the TV, tell me off on the marathon
Oh, you greedy, catch you, now don't embarrass some
You can't see me, John Cena in camouflage
And they see me, cashin' out on a Megatron
And the VV, lookin' just like it
Is Steve in the back? Is you broke? It's all perfect
Sleep on the cash, it was life, it's all real
Laid on the floor, I was broke, it's all worth it
Land on your tail, break it down, it's all word
Laid on the floor, is you drunk? We all stupid
F*ck you to sleep, it was love, it's all good
How many days have I died? We all losers
Laid in the streets, said "Five", it's call cap

Screamin' at home, and no phones, we all hurtin'
Freakin' ya soul, like the pack, we all herb
Pay me to feel, what the f*ck, we all need ya
Mixin' the feel with the facts, we all hurt
Play in the dirt, we are at the sunseeker
If I'ma die, make it big, we all hurtin'
Tell me it's real, like the front, we all need ya
Lay in the field, burn it down, we all herb

I can call this face out
The breakup with a breakdown
Been tryna find a way out
I'm waitin' for the catch
Maybe call you up soon
But Jake got me like "Just cool"
What I want and must do
They don't always match
Runnin' for the hills when it gets rough
Show me, sure is feelin' like a setup
I'ma be a isolated mess
Just to look as good as it gets
Nothin' less when I mess up

Yeah, who on the edge, it's the funds, it's all Ubers
Starvin' a child, it's a check, it's all hers
We could've died, there was shots, they don't know it
Sparin' a child goin' wild
Yeah, yeah, AMG in the dark, it's all motor
Crashin' the Jeep, it's fine, it's all hers
F*ck it, it's robbers, Rashad is all posted
Spillin' the drink, goin' wild

Screamin' at home, and no phones, we all hurtin'
Freakin' ya soul, like the pack, we all herb
Pay me to feel, what the f*ck, we all need ya
Mixin' the feel with the facts, we all hurt
Play in the dirt, we are at the sunseeker
If I'ma die, make it big, we all hurtin'
Tell me it's real, like the front, we all need ya
Lay in the field, burn it down, we all herb

F*ck it, I'ma get it off my chest though
Made a nigga perfect for his next ho
Knew you would tryna bait me like a set
If I give ten percent, I'ma need it back tenfold
F*ck it, I'ma get it off my chest though
Made a nigga perfect for his next ho
Knew you would tryna bait me like a set
If I give ten percent, I'ma need it back
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Isaiah McClain, Amindi Kiara Frost
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.






Hey Mista

I'll leave right now Kal
I'll f*cking leave bro
I'll f*cking leave
I'm parking (yeah)
Don't turn it off, just keep it rolling (yeah)
Uh, just keep it rolling, look keep the lights on, just watch this (yeah)
Watch, watch this, look, look

Yeah
Me and my niggas on P's, then we was on blades
Then we was on sofas (ayy)
Knowing them bitches gon' tease, like we was stage
When we was on porches (ayy, ayy)
Sunny done got a lil' paid and got a lil' horse
And got a lil' fortress, yeah
I was just having them days, I'd hit the subway
Then I would hit Portia, yeah

Bitch, you a fever
Bitch, don't sweat me when I'm hot
You want some leisure (yeah, oh, oh, nah, nah, not at all)
I got the big truck
Parking trying to save the world
I drove the eco, yeah

Me and my niggas on P's, then we was on blades
Then we was on sofas (ayy)
Knowing them bitches gon' tease, like we was stage
When we was on porches (ayy, ayy)
Sunny done got a lil' paid and got a lil' horse
And got a lil' fortress, yeah
I was just having them days, I'd hit the subway
Then I would hit Portia, yeah

Hey mista (yeah)
Can I light my bitches up?
Can I cool my bitches off?
Can I bring them bitches home?
Then I put my bitches on
Stocks and some good investments
Plots in a new direction
Pop that lil' coochie, baby
I got the Uber waiting
Shotgun for you and Stacy
Top of the generation
Too cool for complications
Don't leave my Johnson waiting
Pimp or you prostituting
Bite that piranha, baby
Sing it's your concert, baby
Ooh, you a monster, baby
Spit on the rocket
Float on the mothership
Don't call me daddy, baby
Don't need no love
But I can't bust when I'm masturbating
Pop off the ratchet
And it's lust for the record (man)

Me and my niggas on P's, then we was on blades
Then we was on sofas (ayy)
Knowing them bitches gon' tease, like we was stage
When we was on porches (ayy, ayy)
Sunny done got a lil' paid and got a lil' horse
And got a lil' fortress, yeah
I was just having them days, I'd hit the subway
Then I would hit Portia, yeah

Uh, you can delete this little, "Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah" thing I did
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Isaiah McClain
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.






True Story

Imagine what a hundred gon' be on your wrist
It's imaginable
Yeah, uh-huh
It's on, bitch

Yeah, yeah
Why you tryna break my heart, why you tryna infiltrate my mind?
Yeah, lights on in the crib, ice all on my bitch
Yeah, nicer than I feel, darker than the feel
Yeah, ice all on my kids, lights out in the crib
Bitch, it's the magic one, uh-huh, don't lose me in your ribs
It's the nasty one, huh, she feel fantabulous
I got, haha, what you askin' for
Smoking on a few yesterday, huh
What am I to do with her today, huh?
Big dawg, chewin' up her face, huh
Bona fide and a dedication
Smokin' on a few yesterday, huh
Please don't kill my night out, please don't kill nobody up in here (uh-huh, uh-huh)
Yeah, floating outta body, I appear (uh-huh, uh-huh)
Don't jump off the edge, stacking chips
Smoking on a few yesterday, huh

I'm giving what I got until it ain't me, mane
My brother was my partner, died like last night week, mane
Can't make it to Atlantis on a jet ski, mane
Tried leaning on my partners (yeah, hey)
My brother goin' corporate, he was pitching that raw
Our daddy copped an eighth, he wasn't workin' at all (haha, yeah)
Smoking on a few yesterday, huh
I'm giving what I got until it ain't me, mane
My brother was my partner, died like last night week, mane
Can't make it to Atlantis on a jet ski, mane
Tried leaning on my partners (yeah, yeah)
My brother goin' corporate, he was pitching that raw
Our daddy copped an eighth, he wasn't workin' at all (haha, yeah)
Smoking on a few yesterday, huh

Now this that flavor, huh? This your favorite, huh?
She say that I'm her baby, huh? You notice her behavior switch?
You don't hit harder than me, you soft as some baby shit
Gimme this, gimme that, gimme, he never gave me shit
Why you bagging that? You got a bitch, that's hustle and flow
Choppas on top of choppas, that bank right in front of your house
Boy, you just running your mouth, cap, you looking for clout, shoe fit
Where them motherf*ckers? You walking 'em out, stat
I'm the east-iest, they know I charge a fee for this
If I was down before this verse, then I'm back on my feet with this
Zay, we gotta eat with this, still hungry, they peeping it
Clean the plate off immediately and completely, we ain't leaving shit
I know they can't believe it, I'm bleedin' it, slidin', leanin' 'em
Gotta beat the odds, no surprise 'til we even it
Top Dawg alumni with it, huh
Saint Bernard with it, bark low, but the bite vicious

Bellin' through the hood the other day, ayy
I ran into my older brother Dre, say
He told me keep that toolie on your waist, bang
He know I do it, do it for the gang, gang
Pull up on my niggas with the drank, drank
AP on my wrist a hunnid K, K
We pour up in the set every day-day
Then I fly to Tenakee and I hit Zay, Zay
F*ck around, bitch, I do it like a G, though
Getting off this weight like it's keto
Beast mode, I'm still selling grams for a P note
Streets know, west side niggas got the cheat code

I'm giving what I got until it ain't me, mane
My brother was my partner, died like last night week, mane
Can't make it to Atlantis on a jet ski, mane
Tried leaning on my partners (yeah, hey)
My brother goin' corporate, he was pitching that raw
Our daddy copped an eighth, he wasn't workin' at all (haha, yeah)
Smoking on a few yesterday, huh
I'm giving what I got until it ain't me, mane
My brother was my partner, died like last night week, mane
Can't make it to Atlantis on a jet ski, mane
Tried leaning on my partners (yeah, hey)
My brother goin' corporate, he was pitching that raw
Our daddy copped an eighth, he wasn't workin' at all (haha, yeah)
Smoking on a few yesterday, huh
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Isaiah McClain, Johnny Reed Jr. McKinzie, Jay Worthy
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.






Wat U Sed

Who the pilot?
And my bitch eat me up when I'm driving
And I swear it's a show, not a riot
Uh

I was trippin', you was trippin', who the pilot?
And my bitch keep me up when I'm drivin'
And I swear it's a show, not a riot
And I had a nightmare last night that I wouldn't count it up
We had too many hoes in this bitch, I had to 'round 'em up
And I had too many hoes in my face, I had to cut 'em off
I done focus on my one-on-one
And I hope your pussy good as my bank account
What you said?

Ayy, bitch, can I break you off? Trunk wavin' at the mall
Hoes on your side of town hate when they ain't involved
Geeked on my brudda pack, beat and I'm overcharged (yeah)
Hurt, what I'm servin' in it, spread like the word of God (what you said?)
F*ck what a nigga do, reach for some inner peace
Geeked on my side of town, dope when I'm slidin' (bitch)
Ghost when I'm slidin' (bitch), Ghost when I'm slidin' (bitch)
Porsche when I'm slidin' (what you said?)

All the hoes with the shorts in ya ass
And you got the D'Usse fallin' out your glass
Old man don't want you in the club
'Cause your pussy poppin', start fights in the club
Come through in your new rental car
Bitches all in your face 'cause you a star
And you come with 'bout four, five hoes
Down to fight anything straight out the door

Roll but I make him eat up, yeah, yeah, yeah (on go)
Drunk but I make him drink up, yeah, yeah, yeah (he gone)
Real, I don't wanna sneak up, yeah, yeah (he gone)
Pop pills but I make him geek up, yeah, yeah, yeah (grrat)
Drunk on a Saturday, hoes get mad, hoes get mad (hoes get mad)
Dirt, it go that-a-way, ho be glad, ho be glad (ho be glad)
Real when you grind (yeah), real when you shine (yeah)
Drunk, drunk, drunk on a Saturday (on the way)
Lookin' bad when you spazz with yo' girls and yo' ass out
Bad like the girl from the Ave, goin' anti
Keep a bag, pop a tag, gon' let it air out
Drop it fast, let it spazz, gon' let your hair down
Shush when I say I get it done, when they speak, I sit up
Flip a pack and make a bun, when they done, I link up
Get ahead like you a geek, show no face if you discreet
Come and put this drink on me if you wanna link up (what you said?)

All the hoes with the shorts in ya ass
And you got the D'Usse fallin' out your glass
Old man don't want you in the club
'Cause your pussy poppin', start fights in the club
Come through in your new rental car
Bitches all in your face 'cause you a star
And you come with 'bout four, five hoes
Down to fight anything straight out the door
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Isaiah McClain, Jaylah Hickmon, Kalon Berry, Rory Behr, Amaire Johnson
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.






Dont Shoot

Smokin' a killin', dodgin' a killin', makin' a killin'
Aight, check me out, ayy

Southside say you ain't got nothin' to live for
So you ain't got nothing to lose, but don't shoot (don't shoot)
Yeah
Southside say you ain't got nothin' to live for
So you ain't got nothin' to lose, but don't (don't shoot)

Outside, my dude
He say he got a new drop on dubs
Vacay, no time
So how you gonna vacay? Get high
I'm smokin' a killin'
Makin' a killing, dodgin' a killing
Come around talkin' about warrants
But they really just robbin' a nigga
Southside still busts speakers and tweeters
And bitches and floosies and Cartier and kibble
How I'm finna let a bitch f*ck up my rhythm
Nigga, I'm tryna make it back, my nigga
Dropped out thinkin' 'bout stacks, still thinkin' about cash
Tell them crackers come catch me, nigga
Tell 'em get the noose off my neck
My nigga, I ain't finna let this shit f*ck with my head
Ain't shit left to give a f*ck about, they don't give a f*ck about shit

Southside say you ain't got nothin' to live for
So you ain't got nothing to lose, but don't shoot (don't shoot)
Yeah
Southside say you ain't got nothin' to live for
So you ain't got nothin' to lose, but don't shoot (don't shoot)

Yeah, don't die, my dude
They say it's finna go down, on Bloods
Can't blame your God
Sometimes you gotta maintain your side
My days too long
Sometimes I wanna lay down and love
Vacay, no time
So how you finna vacay? Get high
They been shippin' my nigga off for twenty-eight summers
Nigga only been free for like three, four months
Niggas losing they life like three, four hundred, yeah
You see the habit goes both ways
They was digging in my pockets, I was digging in my pockets
You was lookin' to a light
And I was lookin' for a lighter
I was f*ckin' with the fire in the worst way

Southside say you ain't got nothin' to live for
So you ain't got nothing to lose, but don't shoot (don't shoot)
Yeah
Southside say you ain't got nothin' to live for
So you ain't got nothing to lose, but don't shoot (don't shoot)

(Don't shoot)
(Don't shoot)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Isaiah McClain
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.






Chad

Yeah, yeah

If I wasn't rapping, baby, I would still be ridin' Mercedes
My new whips look so related, my old bitch was overrated
If you pop that pill, remember, niggas fold like hunnids and fifties
If you on that cup, remember, niggas fold like

When I'm working the Ave., it's ash and fire inside the whip
When I'm done, I'ma pass around the cash, go buy some more
If I hit the lil' gas and crash and die, who down to smoke?
When I'm working the Ave., it's ash and fire inside it (ayy)

Dirty nigga got soul like enzyme
Snuck two pounds on the inside (f*ck with it), ayy
Trapping out the Mapco (Mapco), ayy
Serving out the Chevron (Chevron)
Little nigga got caught with the heron
Dog food and a word to my canines
Heard a nigga got popped with the A-Rod (yeah)
Running to the state line (yeah)

I just put a blades on a bulletproof Range, I could cripple Liu Kang, it's on-on
Via that drank, I ain't feeling my face, I ain't feeling no pain, it's on-on
Baby, calm down, lemme deal with that stress on top of your head, yeah
Baby, calm down, can you handle that high? Can you handle yourself? It's on-on

If I wasn't rapping, baby, I would still be ridin' Mercedes
My new whips look so related, my old bitch was overrated
If you pop that pill, remember, niggas fold like hunnids and fifties
If you on that cup, remember, niggas fold like

If they talking about cash wassam, I'm down, they down, let's go
I been moving my stash around 'cause opps is watching
I ain't breaking my back, I'm lac, I'm lax, wassam, it's cool
I been moving my stash around 'cause opps is watching
Yeah, count it up mane, gotta mount it up man, take a look at this shit, it's on-on
Yeah, hop in that drop, gotta kick in that box, put a click on that a stick, it's on-on
Baby, come down, lemme deal with that stress on top of your head, yeah
Baby, come down, can you handle that high? Can you handle yourself? It's on-on

If I wasn't rapping, baby, I would still be ridin' Mercedes
If I wasn't rapping, baby, I would still be ridin' Mercedes
If I wasn't rapping, baby, I would still be ridin' Mercedes
If I wasn't rapping, baby

If I wasn't rapping, baby, I would still be ridin' Mercedes
My new whips look so related, my old bitch was overrated
If you pop that pill, remember, niggas fold like hunnids and fifties
If you on that cup, remember, niggas fold like

You got a gun, what you gon' do?
What you gon' do with it? What you gon' do with it?
What you gon' do with it, bitch?
I'm not worried about that gun, bitch, you will get blown
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Isaiah McClain, Kevin Adams
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Songtrust Ave, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.






9-3 Freestyle

Aight, yeah, yeah


The way you suck a dick, you get a B+ (You got it, ho)
The way you suck a dick, you get a Prius (You got it, ho)
You runnin' to the dope, they need to keep up (You's runnin', ho)
That bitch can't keep no balance on that dick, but she a Libra
That bitch can't get a dollar from this shit, it's Ebenezer
I busted on her features and gave her back to Jesus
'Cause if I try to keep it (Yo, my baby mama would be beat your ass, bitch)
She know I got issue, Tisha, Kiesha
You know I got season ticket pleasers
You know I got niggas sittin' in my whip lookin' at this shit like I won't buss
All my dogs got it filled up, it's still crunk, ayy


All my dogs got it filled up, it's real crunk (Yeah)
All my dogs got it filled up, it's still jumpin'
Just imagine how niggas came up from the South
Knowin' them streets donе did you dirt
Comin' up, these niggas wasn't no fans
Pussy-ass nigga, don't touch my stash


You got it (Yeah, yеah, yeah)
Top ain't gonna like that, but I like this, check me out
Aight, this my part right here


Look, I'm tryna take all these bitches to work
Workin' the curbs, workin' the curbs
I wanna count all the Benjamins
She wanna f*ck on the Benjamins
Suck on my Benjamins, make a predicament
Breakin' a ligament, have an epiphany
Have her like evidence, have her like every day
We were just kickin' it, we were just kickin' it, ho
I'm tryna take all these bitches to work (Yeah)
Workin' the curbs, workin' the curbs (Man)
I wanna count all the Benjamins (Yeah)
She wanna f*ck on the Benjamins (Yeah)
Suck on my Benjamins, make a predicament
Breakin' a ligament, have an epiphany
Have her like evidence, have her like every day
We were just kickin' it, we were just kickin' it, ho (Bitch, haha)

You got it, yeah, yeah
Top ain't gonna like that, but I like this, check me out
Aight, this my part right here
Look-
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Isaiah McClain
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.






Score

(Whoa, Kenny)

Play right, play right, god damn it (oh)
Don't wanna hold up the night, god damn it (ayy)
Don't wanna control ya right, god damn it
Keeping score tonight (alright, alright)
Play right, play right, god damn it (ayy)
Don't wanna hold up the night, god damn it (ee-ayy)
Don't wanna control ya right, god damn it
Keeping score tonight (ride, ride, ride, ride with you)

Mm, just wanna ride-ride with you
Shoot and I would die-die with you
Pain you gotta notice (you gotta notice)
War scars and more shit (I got some more)
You got some baggage, emotions (you need to)
Crash and control issues
Lagging and loading
Heart was too open
I put that over peace
You know I'd rather ride-ride with you
But would you do it for the guy?
I'm never outta reach
You know I wanna ride-ride with you
Or I'd keep that shit alive
Meanwhile, I'm racing daylight-daylight, I'm gone
Goddamn, I hit the freeway, get ghost, I'm lost
I noticed it was unlocked-unlocked, uh-huh

They got me at the stove
They got me like, "Don't leave us"

Play right, play right, god damn it (oh)
Don't wanna hold up the night, god damn it (ayy)
Don't wanna control ya right, god damn it
Keeping score tonight (alright, alright)
Play right, play right, god damn it (ayy)
Don't wanna hold up the night, god damn it (ee-ayy)
Don't wanna control ya right, god damn it
Keeping score tonight (ride, ride, ride, ride with you)

And I just decided
You ain't worth my time
Can't get you off my mind
Can't risk, little that I given up
But you move in silence
They know you dirty, you private
You over your time limit
Baby, you know you have to score
You know every day a nigga get right-right with you
Baby, make it hard to get-get right-right with you
Overtime, can't get right
Did too much out of spite
Did too much, can't get right, get right

Ride or die, I (ayy) really wanna slide (ayy)
Feelin' way high on a highway light
Pull over and try to put some points on the board
Both my hands tied, but I still keep score
Play for the same squad, never leave her
We both put up points, think I need her
Hop out all brown, she in cheetah
That dress make you pop like believer
Play right, play right, goddamn
I be here from daylight to night, I am
Tuck like the moon in the sky just waiting on my shift
Know I'm gon' score, I'm just waiting on my peace, so
Play right, play right you know
I'ma leave my heart out, heart out, on the floor
I try to get you done up-done up, uh-huh
They got me at the store
They got me like, "Don't leave her"

Play right, play right, god damn it (oh)
Don't wanna hold up the night, god damn it (ayy)
Don't wanna control ya right, god damn it
Keeping score tonight (alright, alright)
Play right, play right, god damn it (ayy)
Don't wanna hold up the night, god damn it (ee-ayy)
Don't wanna control ya right, god damn it
Keeping score tonight (score tonight, ee)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Isaiah Joel McClain, Kenneth Charles III Blume, Ricardo Valdez Jr. Valentine, Solana Imani Rowe
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group






THIB

Yeah, who's that f*ckin', window, who's that?
Who's that creeping in my, who, who's that?
Who's that? Who, (too much of it) yeah, bitch

Who's that creeping in my window? Who's, who's that?
Who's that f*cking with my conscience? I was
Who's that creeping in my window? Who's, who's that?
Who's that f*cking with my conscience? I was

Chain swangin', still empty, f*ck it
Hoes choosin', still empty, f*ck 'em
I don't even like Henny, f*ck it
Night rider, still drinkin', duckin'
Skydivers, loose cannons, cousins
Real addicts, full-timers, buzzin'
Close ranger, Range Rover, stuffin'
Don't waste it, no chaser (who's, who's)

Who's that creeping in my window? Who's, who's that?
Who's that f*cking with my conscience? I was
Who's that creeping in my window? Who's, who's that?
Who's that f*cking with my conscience? I was

Intriguin', sound checking, perfect
Soul searchin', no purpose, purchase
Been an addict, been starvin', thirsty
Still greedy, don't tease me, servin'
I'm mobbin' to the beach
Top down, loud sound, see my peeps
Smoke a pound, stomach growl, let me feast
I need-need everything in my reach
That's what we preach
My niggas know I'm loco
Don't tell Rashad he's a star on the low-low
And raising bars like Lamar on the pogo
I'm selling art, sellin' souls by the BOGO at the dojo

Who's that creeping in my window? Who's, who's that?
Who's that f*cking with my conscience? I was
Who's that creeping in my window? Who's, who's that?
Who's that f*cking with my conscience? I was
Who's that creeping in my window? Who's, who's that?
Who's that f*cking with my conscience? I was
Who's that creeping in my window? Who's, who's that?
Who's that f*cking with my conscience? I was
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Isaiah McClain
Copyright: Lyrics © Exploration Group LLC






HB2U

Is there a Heaven? (Yes)
How do you know that? (You don't)

Yeah, yeah
I hope it all makes sense to ball like this, the large address
Ain't nothing stoppin' me but parking fees
Many hands settle down
If you don't ever get yourself straight, who the f*ck is you gon' help, man?
I pray for many Thanksgivings, I pray that Tisha don't cook
You know her mama'll put sugar in they greens
That's that shit I never seen before
Bucket list, scratchin' off some shit you ain't never dreamed before
Sparkle up your pinky toe
Ayy, baby, I have no reason to stay, baby
My dream too big for this city
And Myrtle Beach ain't vacation
I can't go far as Nevada, see I only seen Vegas
If not these niggas, bet your senses betray ya
I need a day or
Two hoes plottin' on my cellular phone
I'm on speed dial, I'm your favorite problem, ya bitch smokin'
Meanwhile, went and got my tolerance thick
With that Stephen Curry arm reach
Oh, we always on top

Slip and slide, I'm out of here, inside the whip
A thousand years, a thousand year
I want my payback
It's all for you, baby, yeah
And slip and slide, I'm out of here, inside the whip
A thousand years, a thousand year
I want my payback
It's all for you, baby, yeah

Your face was blizzard, are you numb enough again?
How I sang it with that purple Power Ranger in my Benz
It's a Jeep, but I'm gon' get it
I'm still Rocem when I visit
Don't you dig into it deeper than that prophet, this is sinners
It's a long time comin'
Somehow, I always keep it peaceful when my kumbuya hunnids
Always looking for a good time, Sunny, that just my first name
Don't holler 'bout your father incentive, it's just a birthday
And a warning for repeatin' a cycle would be the worst way
Them hoes always callin' my number like it's a jersey
Them hoes always treatin' my Johnson like he a person
No matter what could happen, what happened to havin' purpose?
Translate for you scratchin' the surface
Motherf*cker, I need my payback

Slip and slide, I'm out of here, inside the whip
A thousand years, a thousand year
I want my payback
It's all for you, baby, yeah
And slip and slide, I'm out of here, inside the whip
A thousand years, a thousand year
I want my payback
It's all for you, babe

You were never a human bein'
You were never a human bein'
You were never a human bein'

I should just pack up my bags and get loaded
She sick and tired of distance, I'm a ghost
This ain't the time of my life, but I'm still on drugs
Just that weekend buzz
Have I been cheatin' myself? I'm implodin'
She's sick and tired of, "Listen, I'm broke"
This ain't the time of my life, but I'm still on drugs
Just that weekend buzz

You were never a human bein'
You were never a human bein'
You were never a human bein'
You were never a human bein'
(You were never a human bein')

I should put all of my trust in religion
I've hit the pavement and busted my nose
This ain't as hard as it gets, but I'm still on drugs
Just that weekend buzz

You were never a human bein'
You were never a human bein'
You were never a human bein'

This ain't as hard as it gets, but I'm still on drugs (you were never a human bein')
Just that weekend buzz (weekend buzz)
This ain't as hard as it gets, still on drugs
Just that weekend buzz
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Isaiah McClain
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.








The House Is Burning is the second studio album by American rapper Isaiah Rashad. It was released on July 30, 2021, by Top Dawg Entertainment (TDE) and Warner Records.

The album features production from numerous producers, including Devin Malik, Hollywood Cole, J. Lbs and Kenny Beats, among others. Guest appearances include frequent collaborators and labelmates Jay Rock and SZA, as well as Lil Uzi Vert, Duke Deuce, Smino, Amindi, 6lack, and others.

On November 19, 2021, the deluxe edition titled Homies Begged was released, including guest appearances from Project Pat, Juicy J, Young Nudy, and Deante' Hitchcock.
Performed By: Isaiah Rashad
Genre(s): Southern hip hop, jazz rap, R&B
Length: 48:26
Released: July 30th, 2021
Year: 2021

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