James Stewart on the beat when I st- st- stutter
Staying til its 3005, like donald glover
Do I got a lover?
I dont know, cuz the shawty's be all up on me, one after a motherf*cking 'nother, brotha
You know I be strapped with that golden and black baretta
When ya homies see it on me they begin to quiver
They start to shiver
Then they messed with ya nigga
Then they fell on the pavement and coughing out blood 'cause I had just emptied the magazine inside they liver
Yes sir, thats the way it goes
I be in the Rolls, thinking bout the hoes
Look at em all, thinking which one to choose
Rocking the Louis and Gucci all the way from my head to my toes, for all the hoes
Not tryna boast, I just be saying the way life goes, I do not lose
Pull up to where I be
Rocking that Gucci tee
You wish that you were me
But you can't be where I be
Cuz I be VIP
My Choppa be touching on niggas like diddy
They said that he killed the boy,
I don't know, did he?
I'm not rat, do not f*ck with that snitching
Think that he laced the blunt, but not his shoes, 'cause that boy is tripping
That boy is trippin, you better listen
Up in the kitchen, cooking that chicken
I got a vision, like I'm a pigeon
Talk on my name, you gon end up like Abraham Lincoln
Bitch I've thinking, how much you making?
I got your rent on my wrist, and on my finger, if im not mistaken
Bake you like cookies, and cook you like bacon
I aint got no time for that, like a broken Patek
I be switching up the flow, like a semiautomatic
She might be calling you boo, but she call me daddy
Making films with your girl
Uh, huh
Talking cinematic
I be spittin bars, hawk tuah on the beat
Yeah shawty good with it, she hawk tuah on the meat
On her knees like she about to plead
It don't matter where we at, we'll go hop in the back seat, if we need
Yeah, she a freak
She the type to get real nasty in the sheets
She the type to f*ck 'til she cant breathe
She the type to ask to the teacher after class to f*ck her for some extra credit, even though her grade in the class is already 103
On my motorcycle, and the engine I be reving
Im so lost in my mind, I feel like I'm in a maze
Either I blow up and die as a legend
Or I die as a man who just did this shit as an escape, theres no way
All I know is I hope things turn out alright
Hope I'll be doing alright
Hoping I'll have a big family, with a beautiful wife
Sometimes theres no telling what happens in life
Shit be going wrong, and shit be going right
All the time
I am not complaining though
I am grateful for all the gifts and talents that I behold
If the truth be told
Do what f*ck you want to do in life, just to prove the motherf*ckers wrong that said, "You can't do it on your own"
Tell em
OneWhiteMexican Kidd - tell em Lyrics
OneWhiteMexican Kidd - tell em Lyrics
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English
James Stewart on the beat when I st- st- stutter
Staying til its 3005, like donald glover
Do I got a lover?
I dont know, cuz the shawty's be all up on me, one after a motherf*cking 'nother, brotha
You know I be strapped with that golden and black baretta
When ya homies see it on me they begin to quiver
They start to shiver
Then they messed with ya nigga
Then they fell on the pavement and coughing out blood 'cause I had just emptied the magazine inside they liver
Yes sir, thats the way it goes
I be in the Rolls, thinking bout the hoes
Look at em all, thinking which one to choose
Rocking the Louis and Gucci all the way from my head to my toes, for all the hoes
Not tryna boast, I just be saying the way life goes, I do not lose
Pull up to where I be
Rocking that Gucci tee
You wish that you were me
But you can't be where I be
Cuz I be VIP
My Choppa be touching on niggas like diddy
They said that he killed the boy,
I don't know, did he?
I'm not rat, do not f*ck with that snitching
Think that he laced the blunt, but not his shoes, 'cause that boy is tripping
That boy is trippin, you better listen
Up in the kitchen, cooking that chicken
I got a vision, like I'm a pigeon
Talk on my name, you gon end up like Abraham Lincoln
Bitch I've thinking, how much you making?
I got your rent on my wrist, and on my finger, if im not mistaken
Bake you like cookies, and cook you like bacon
I aint got no time for that, like a broken Patek
I be switching up the flow, like a semiautomatic
She might be calling you boo, but she call me daddy
Making films with your girl
Uh, huh
Talking cinematic
I be spittin bars, hawk tuah on the beat
Yeah shawty good with it, she hawk tuah on the meat
On her knees like she about to plead
It don't matter where we at, we'll go hop in the back seat, if we need
Yeah, she a freak
She the type to get real nasty in the sheets
She the type to f*ck 'til she cant breathe
She the type to ask to the teacher after class to f*ck her for some extra credit, even though her grade in the class is already 103
On my motorcycle, and the engine I be reving
Im so lost in my mind, I feel like I'm in a maze
Either I blow up and die as a legend
Or I die as a man who just did this shit as an escape, theres no way
All I know is I hope things turn out alright
Hope I'll be doing alright
Hoping I'll have a big family, with a beautiful wife
Sometimes theres no telling what happens in life
Shit be going wrong, and shit be going right
All the time
I am not complaining though
I am grateful for all the gifts and talents that I behold
If the truth be told
Do what f*ck you want to do in life, just to prove the motherf*ckers wrong that said, "You can't do it on your own"
Tell em
Staying til its 3005, like donald glover
Do I got a lover?
I dont know, cuz the shawty's be all up on me, one after a motherf*cking 'nother, brotha
You know I be strapped with that golden and black baretta
When ya homies see it on me they begin to quiver
They start to shiver
Then they messed with ya nigga
Then they fell on the pavement and coughing out blood 'cause I had just emptied the magazine inside they liver
Yes sir, thats the way it goes
I be in the Rolls, thinking bout the hoes
Look at em all, thinking which one to choose
Rocking the Louis and Gucci all the way from my head to my toes, for all the hoes
Not tryna boast, I just be saying the way life goes, I do not lose
Pull up to where I be
Rocking that Gucci tee
You wish that you were me
But you can't be where I be
Cuz I be VIP
My Choppa be touching on niggas like diddy
They said that he killed the boy,
I don't know, did he?
I'm not rat, do not f*ck with that snitching
Think that he laced the blunt, but not his shoes, 'cause that boy is tripping
That boy is trippin, you better listen
Up in the kitchen, cooking that chicken
I got a vision, like I'm a pigeon
Talk on my name, you gon end up like Abraham Lincoln
Bitch I've thinking, how much you making?
I got your rent on my wrist, and on my finger, if im not mistaken
Bake you like cookies, and cook you like bacon
I aint got no time for that, like a broken Patek
I be switching up the flow, like a semiautomatic
She might be calling you boo, but she call me daddy
Making films with your girl
Uh, huh
Talking cinematic
I be spittin bars, hawk tuah on the beat
Yeah shawty good with it, she hawk tuah on the meat
On her knees like she about to plead
It don't matter where we at, we'll go hop in the back seat, if we need
Yeah, she a freak
She the type to get real nasty in the sheets
She the type to f*ck 'til she cant breathe
She the type to ask to the teacher after class to f*ck her for some extra credit, even though her grade in the class is already 103
On my motorcycle, and the engine I be reving
Im so lost in my mind, I feel like I'm in a maze
Either I blow up and die as a legend
Or I die as a man who just did this shit as an escape, theres no way
All I know is I hope things turn out alright
Hope I'll be doing alright
Hoping I'll have a big family, with a beautiful wife
Sometimes theres no telling what happens in life
Shit be going wrong, and shit be going right
All the time
I am not complaining though
I am grateful for all the gifts and talents that I behold
If the truth be told
Do what f*ck you want to do in life, just to prove the motherf*ckers wrong that said, "You can't do it on your own"
Tell em
Writer: Bryson Hernández
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid